HTLJ: MY Soul, My Choice
by Arianna18
Summary: Arianna's retelling of the dread 5th season and how Hercules got his best friend back again.
1. Out of the Darkness

Note: Having run out of new ideas, I find myself still haunted by a story I had thought not to tell. First, there already are other versions of how the stupid cruelty of season five could have been resolved. And, second, it is painful to remember that season, and all the blinding heartache and anger it generated. However, this story just won't go away. Iolaus wants his own version told, one more true to the myths, less grandiose, perhaps, than being cast as a Guardian of the Light, but one that is more in keeping with his Ancient Greek heritage. In deference to his insistent urging, I find I can no longer resist setting down this tale of how it might have been.

And, of course, since this is his version, references are made to earlier tales he's shared with me, Children of the Sea, Labour of Love, Be Careful What You Wish For, Spirits of Heroes, I Miss My Friend, and One Day, in particular! And, as always, I must thank Pythia for her endless patience and wondrous imagination. Without her, I couldn't have done Iolaus' tale justice!

To place yourself in the season, this episode picks up after Hercules confronts Dahok in Sumeria. Zanathustra does not appear in my version of events. Hercules, Nebula and Morrigan have traveled to Greece and have now been battling Dahok, and his army of zombie priests across the Peloponnese from Sparta to Mycenae, where this story picks up the thread.

* * *

Chapter One: Out of the Darkness

"HADES!" he shouted furiously, long past tired of being ignored, having had it with guilt, finished with grief and sorrow, done with frustration, and now just plain blazing mad, "SHOW YOURSELF! NOW!!!"

The God of the Underworld rolled his eyes and gritted his teeth with exasperation. It had been months of what seemed like endless pleading, then bargaining, followed by whining and moaning escalating from cajoling through ranting to demands…and, now, he was daring to command?

"Enough!" Hades growled, wheeling to leave his private chambers, "I've had a lot more than enough of this!"

But, Persephone grabbed his arm, pulling him back, her eyes wide with appeal as she urged, "Don't be mad at him…he can't help it. He's suffering such pain. Please…just listen to him. Don't…don't hurt him anymore than he's already had to endure."

Hades stood rigid in the grip of her hand, narrowing his eyes as he gazed into hers, wanting to resist but unable to deny her anything when she looked at him like that. Taking a deep breath, he tried to leash in his indignant rage, tried to find some measure of calm.

"HADES!" he shouted again…now daring to beat and kick upon the impregnable sealed door to the God's private chambers!

That tore it.

Hades pulled away from his wife's insistent grip and whirled to face the door, waving a hand to make it disappear, leaving the warrior who had been pounding upon it to stagger awkwardly into the dark but opulent quarters.

Driven beyond even his notable reserves of sardonic calm, Hades strode forward and grabbed the unwelcome intruder by the vest, hauling him close, as he snarled, "If you don't shut up, and I mean NOW, I will personally dump you into the Lethe! Do you understand?"

Iolaus opened his mouth to remonstrate with the god, but at the look in Hades' eyes he managed to stop himself before it was too late. A dunking in the Lethe was the one thing he couldn't afford, and by the expression of unbridled rage on Hades' face, he was one step away from oblivion. Because, that's what it would be, if he couldn't remember…he might as well not exist at all.

And he had to exist.

This was too important.

As Iolaus struggled to fight back his almost mindless, desperate fury, Persephone moved in again, laying a calming hand on the rigid arm that held the warrior captive. "Both of you…stop this nonsense!" she ordered them, tired herself of the endless wrangling.

With a muttered oath, Hades almost tossed Iolaus away as he turned and paced to regain his patience.

Iolaus flashed Persephone a brief glance of heartfelt gratitude, then licked his lips. He had to make Hades listen…had to win his help before it was too late.

"I'm…I'm sorry," he choked out, not in the least bit apologetic, "I know I'm nothing but trouble. But, please…you have to listen to me."

Sighing, the God of the Underworld turned to face him, hands on his hips, a long-suffering look on his face.

"What is it this time?" he seethed, still fighting his own anger.

"You have to let me go back," Iolaus replied, hands out, desperate appeal in his eyes.

Hades shook his head as he lowered it and rubbed the back of his neck. "We have had this conversation, too many times. You're DEAD! You've been dead almost a year. When are you going to accept that what happens back there no longer concerns you?" he demanded, sighing with the futility of arguing with this very determined mortal soul.

"Maybe when my body stops walking around KILLING PEOPLE!" Iolaus stormed back, all pretence at calm reason gone. "Dammit, Hades…Dahok is using me to do unspeakable, horrible things! I can't stand it! I have to stop him!"

"YOU CAN'T STOP HIM!" Hades raged back. "He has the power of a god…you are just a mortal…a dead mortal! He's not using you, he's using what used to be your body. There is nothing you can do except lose your own soul in a battle you can NOT win!"

"Then, help me!" Iolaus pressed, not backing down.

"It's not within my purview to interfere in the choices mortals make, or in the evils they must face…even if I wanted to," Hades replied wearily for the umpteenth time, looking away from the righteous, blazing demand for justice in the eyes that stared him down.

"Dahok won't stop with controlling all of humanity. He wants it all…you must know that!" Iolaus cried. "When he's done with mortals, he'll go after the gods. Help me before he's too strong…if not for the mortals he's torturing…then for yourself," Iolaus' eyes swept the room and he was seized by what could only be called, 'divine inspiration', as he added, "and…and Persephone!"

Hades raised a fist in exasperation, ready to blast Iolaus all the way to the Lethe to end this mad, hopeless, endless confrontation, but Persephone called across the silence, "Don't!"

"Bah!" he spat out, whirling away, standing with his rigid back to the both of them, his arms crossed in anger.

"Hades…" she began to cajole, but he raised a hand in warning, still refusing to face them while he bit his lip in thought. "Leave me," he ordered with a dangerous growl.

Iolaus would have persisted, but Persephone took his arm and practically dragged him from the chamber. Once they'd stepped into the hall that led to the throne room, the door between them and Hades reappeared, sealing them out.

Iolaus turned to Persephone in desperation. "Please…you have to make him listen. I know what I'm talking about…I know I'm right!"

Frowning thoughtfully, she took him by the arm to lead him away to her private garden. "Walk with me," she directed. With a last frustrated look at the impregnable door, he sighed and nodding, fell into step beside her. If he couldn't convince Hades, then maybe he could convince her.

As they walked down the long marble corridor, lit by flaring torches in wrought iron wall sconces, Iolaus' thoughts returned to the scenes that had driven him to such desperation. Though the god had long since come to regret the gesture, Hades, in an effort to appease Iolaus' persistent, dogged need to know what was happening to his best friend, had given him free access to a window that allowed him to view the reality of the world of living beings. For weeks now, Iolaus had been watching his own body terrorize Nebula and everyone else he came into contact with, lying to people, calling forth an army and laying siege to one Greek city state after another. With growing horror, he'd watched his hand kill innocent people and one city after another fall to the demon who had taken on his dead body.

And, he'd watched as Hercules tried to stop…that thing. Watched the grief and despair, the horror that blossomed on his best friend's face every time he had to fight a being that wore the face of his best friend…more, which conjured up the voice, the touch and gestures, the expressions of a lifetime friendship to torture the demigod.

Gods, Iolaus couldn't stand it. He'd seen Hercules pass up one opportunity after another to kill the creature, not able to bring himself to do it. And, now, Hercules with Nebula and the woman he'd brought from Eire, Morrigan, were exhausted, taking a momentary respite before resuming their doomed resistance of Dahok's attacks. The demon's next target was Corinth. At that point, Hercules would be caught between defending his brother, Iphicles, and his city…and striking a death blow to someone who in his mind was only too clearly still some vestige of his best friend. Iolaus was terrified that Hercules would hesitate again…and be killed. Terrified that Iphicles and all their friends in Corinth would be destroyed.

By him.

By his hand, commands uttered in his voice.

Iolaus was almost mad with terror and helplessness…and fury. He couldn't just stand around here, on the Other Side, while his body did such terrible things…wreaked such horror on the mortal world. Couldn't just watch his best friend face such despicable evil alone. Most of all, he was sick with the idea that Hercules would hesitate once too often, and be killed, by his hand. This was his fault, all his fault. If he'd taken even a split second to think before diving in front of that blade, to throw something to deflect it, or to push Nebula out of its path…anything, this wouldn't be happening now. He'd reacted, driven by a desperate, unthinking, instinctive, urge to save another life, a life he loved…and had unwittingly unleashed the voracious god of chaos and destruction, giving Dahok the freedom to work his demonic will.

He had to do something to make this right, had to battle that demon for his body…had to help Hercules destroy it, whatever the cost. He could not exist for all eternity with this inexpressible burden of guilt on his soul. But, nor would he take the easy way out. The Lethe was there, could make all this easy for him. But, he didn't deserve 'easy'. This was his responsibility…the evil was being done by his hand.

He knew what he had to do…what he'd told Hades countless times needed to be done. He had to get back to the world and move back into his body…distract Dahok from inside, grapple with that horrific mind and give others time to bring the demon down…destroy him utterly, if that was possible. Consign him back into the ether, if it was not. Dahok needed a body to wreak his evil will, and Iolaus had to help take that body away from him.

But he couldn't do it alone. He'd prowled all over the Other Side, looking for some rift, some pathway or portal that could let him escape back into the world. He'd followed the paths he'd trodden with Hercules in the past, or had heard Herc had used when coming here on his own. But…Hades had them all covered. There was no way through from this side, not unless Hades let him go…transported his soul to the battlefield. Gods, he hated being trapped like this, dependent on the will of another. So, he'd ranted and raved, argued and challenged, demanded and pleaded, did everything he could think of to wear Hades down, to convince the god of what needed to be done. Pushed as hard as he knew how.

And had gotten exactly nowhere.

Once they arrived in the perfect garden paradise Hades had created for her enjoyment, Persephone moved to a marble bench under a blossoming cherry tree and sat, drawing Iolaus down beside her. As she took his hand in hers, her eyes filled with compassion as she tried to win the truce her husband had been able to attain. "Iolaus…you must let it go. Hades is right…there isn't anything you can do. I know you're suffering… you've become almost famous as the only soul in the Elysian Fields who cannot find any peace…but your battles are over."

Iolaus shook his head, swallowing hard, unable and completely unwilling to accept that. Pulling away from her, he stood and paced as he tried, once more, to make her understand. Maybe she could convince Hades if he couldn't. "Look…Dahok is worse than anything you can imagine," he tried to explain, again, an expression of disgusted, sick loathing crossing his face as he remembered, "I've seen his true form. Felt him, his…his being…as I left my body and he settled into it. In that moment, it was like I was a part of him." Iolaus shuddered with the memory.

His voice a little unsteady with the power of those memories, he continued, "He overwhelmed my senses and everything that he is, has ever been, everything that he desires blazed into me. Persephone, he is destruction, chaos, call it whatever you want…I just know he'll stop at nothing to win…and when he does, there won't be anything or anyone left!"

Studying him, moved by his passionate certainty, Persephone believed him, but she frowned as she protested, "But…what can you, a single mortal soul, do to stop him? Iolaus…he will swallow you up, make you part of what he is…your soul would be lost forever inside that evil. I know you think Hades is being unreasonable…but he's just trying to protect you. He will not sacrifice your soul to that monster!"

"I could fight him…try to distract him…" Iolaus argued back, turning to face her, arms out in desperate supplication. "I have to do something to help. Hercules," his voice caught, and he had to swallow against other sorrows, another kind of pain, before he could continue. "Hercules is trying to fight him alone. Oh…I know Nebula and Morrigan are trying to help him…but it's not enough. Dahok will destroy all of them."

"You don't know that," she tried to reason with him.

"Yes…I do," he replied hoarsely, his voice aching with his helplessness.

His shoulders slumped as he sighed, an expression of profound sorrow settling over his features as he sank back onto the bench beside her, his face turned away. They sat in silence for a long moment, and then he murmured, his voice aching with hurt and longing, "Why hasn't he ever come…?"

When she just closed her eyes and turned her face away, having wondered the same thing herself, many times, he continued, his voice lost in misery, "I…I know he couldn't get me back, not this time. It was my own act that caused my death. But…we could have at least seen one another. And then he'd know that abomination walking around in my body is no part of me! He could be free to do what he has to do to finish this. But…I can see he's confused, hoping maybe, if I am a part of that monster, he can still get to me. But, he could get to me here…if he'd only come. I…he feels so guilty, and he hurts so much…I want…I want to tell him it wasn't his fault." His voice faltered, dropping to a murmur, as he asked, "Why doesn't he want to see me? Do you…do you think part of him despises me for…for being dumb enough to have finally gotten myself killed? For letting him down. For letting Dahok into the world?"

Persephone shook her head wordlessly, but he didn't see her gesture of compassionate empathy.

His eyes rising to the illusion of a clear, blue sky, feeling utterly lost and alone, Iolaus shared his deepest, most profound sorrow, both for himself and his best friend. Hercules had yet to fully grieve in acceptance of Iolaus' death…and until he did, neither of them would know any kind of peace. Sighing with sad reflection, he said softly, "You know, he's never once really wept for me. Rage, horror, frustration, denial, …I've felt all that, heard his pain. But…it's as if he refuses to let go, to weep…and move on. Or…maybe he has moved on…maybe he never needed, or wanted, to shed tears of grief…maybe I'm the one who can't let go. Everyone else in the Elysian Fields has felt the healing that the honest tears of their closest family or friends bring to ease the grief on both sides of the chasm between life and death. But… Herc hasn't…he must still be so angry… he really must hate me…."

"Oh, Iolaus," she sighed, turning to again take his hand gently in her own, then reaching up to caress his cheek, offering the only solace she could. "You must know that Hercules could never hate you. If anything, he hates himself for somehow failing you, and can't bear to see you. It would mean that it was all true and real, the finality of your death, and he's still trying to deny it, believe that he can still get you back. But, he has no more favours to call in, no way to make a deal with Hades, and he must know that. And, now? I think you're right. Seeing your body, hearing your voice…it only tells him that there might still be a chance that if he can defeat Dahok you'll somehow be resurrected."

Iolaus frowned at her words. She wasn't making him feel any better. The thought that Hercules was eating himself up with self-hatred and denial, grimly hanging onto a desperate hope that he could somehow undo what had been done was worse than believing Herc hated him. Nor did he really want to think that Hercules might actually believe that he was still locked inside a body that had died and was now controlled by a demon. Though he'd seen the confusion in Hercules' eyes as he battled Dahok, Iolaus wondered how Herc could ever imagine that Iolaus was there, a part of that horror, and not be fighting with every scrap of his being to thwart the demon?

Besides, it didn't make any kind of sense…they'd seen each other since…since Sumeria.

"It kills me that he blames himself," he protested, unconscious of the oddity of a dead soul saying such a thing. "I tried, you know, when I first got here and for weeks afterward, to get Hades to let me see him, if only for a few moments. I was so scared he'd do something to get himself killed…he was behaving like a crazy man. Going to war with foreign gods, screaming at the Fates, cursing destiny, ignoring the peril he was putting himself into. And, he'd…turned away from helping people, so bitter and…filled with hopelessness. I hate that. I hate that I did that to him. That the memory of our friendship is destroying everything that he is." Iolaus swallowed against the lump of guilt in his throat. "Hades finally agreed to let me see him, giving me those few minutes in the cave in Eire," Iolaus sighed, looking up into the cloudless sky, knowing it wasn't real…that nothing here was real. "I tried to…to get Herc to understand that it was alright…alright to let go…to go on. Not to feel guilty or have any regrets…but it didn't help…not him…not me."

"I know," she murmured, gazing at him with profound sorrow for the pain his soul endured. Other souls learned to let go, learned to stop grudging the Fates their freedom in weaving the tapestry only they could design. But, not Iolaus. Whatever tied him to Hercules was stronger by far than any thread Clothos could spin… or Atropos cut. He might as well have been condemned to the miseries of Tartarus…he'd not suffer more there than he suffered in the Elysian Fields.

"I have to help him…there has to be a way," Iolaus sighed, frowning in furious thought. "There has to be."

"Maybe there is," Hades answered, startling them as he appeared before them. When Iolaus bounded to his feet, hope filling his eyes, Hades held up a hand, his gaze stern, as he warned, "I said, 'maybe'. And, if I decide it is absolutely necessary for you to become involved, you must be certain that you are prepared for the risks… you might well lose your soul, Iolaus, before this is over."

"I'm sure," Iolaus replied, needing no time to weigh the odds. He had to do whatever was in his power to do to stop Dahok…to save Hercules…nothing else, not even the fate of his own soul, mattered.

Hades gazed at him silently, then temporized, "Yes, well, as I said, 'maybe', 'if'. We'll see. Wait here. I'll be back as soon as I can."

The God of the Other Side vanished, leaving Iolaus once again frustrated to be left waiting, anxious to get on with it, and Persephone puzzled, wondering what her husband was up to now…what strategy he had decided to set in motion…and why. Though, she could guess.

Iolaus' reference to the danger Dahok might one day be to her would be more than enough to give her husband pause. Hades liked to pretend he was hard and cold, beyond the passions that drove other gods and mortals. But, she knew he loved her with everything that he was.

If for no other reason, he would intervene in this matter for her…to keep her safe. Always.

* * *

Hades flashed first to the dark, deserted cavern lost in a maze of caves, appearing on the edge of the deep well to the volcanic fires below. An eerie orange-red glow from the molten rock below pulsed and flared, illuminating the black pumice walls of stone, causing shadows to dance. He gazed at the remains, no more than bone and leather now, and shook his head at the vanity of gods and mortals. No one lived a completely risk-free existence…no one could expect eternity was their due, whatever their bloodlines. The God who dealt in death understood better than the others that even the gods could die if someone wanted to kill them badly enough. There would always be a way.

Dropping to one knee, he brushed the dry brittle bones aside and picked up the dagger which miraculously still lay there, forgotten and ignored in the drama and tumultuous emotion of succeeding events. Moving to the flare of light from the fires deep in the earth, he studied the blood-encrusted blade, chewing on his lip…deciding there were sufficient traces of hind blood left to meet the need. Securing the weapon in a pouch under his cloak, he again looked around the dim interior. Xena had killed Callisto here in a blaze of maddened fury, believing that her soul-mate, Gabrielle, had sacrificed herself to rid the world of her daughter Hope.

Xena had gotten off lucky in that skirmish with the evil daughter of Dahok. The Warrior Princess had gotten her best friend back.

Hercules hadn't been so fortunate.

Thinking about his nephew, the god frowned. He'd been surprised when the demigod had not immediately stormed his realm, seeking the return of his best friend's life. He'd waited, dreading the confrontation, knowing that this time there were no grounds to accede to Hercules' demands. But, instead, it had been Iolaus who had hammered at him constantly, worried about the demigod, wanting to intervene to alleviate his friend's overwhelming grief and guilt. Iolaus, driven by his own guilt and grief, had been upsetting everyone, unsettling the routines of the Other Side. Though the warrior'd had enough sense to try to keep his worries from Alcmene and Deianeara, the women hadn't been blind…and though they didn't understand what haunted Iolaus so, they, too, had begun to plead with Hades to do something to either give Iolaus peace or restore him to life.

Against his better judgment, Hades had finally capitulated to the ceaseless clamour and worked a deal with his Celtic counterpart, allowing Iolaus a brief reunion in the cave in Eire.

The God of the Underworld reflected on how carefully Iolaus had prepared for those few, precious moments…creating a simple ordinary scene of warmth, a campfire, an ambiance of normalcy and calm, doing his best to ease his friend's suffering with no thought to his own eternal grief. Over the years, Hades had come to have some appreciation of why his nephew valued this mortal, indeed treasured him. But, in those moments, watching Iolaus conceal his own utter devastation in order to console his friend, Hades had been touched as he rarely allowed himself to be by the heartbreaking bravery and selfless generosity of the mortal soul.

But, those early days had been nothing compared to the last month or so. Once Iolaus had realized Dahok had taken over his body, was using it first to torment and torture Nebula and was now killing innocent people who would not bow to his rule…and was a direct threat to Hercules, Iolaus had been increasingly adamant, verging on hysteria, that he be permitted to fight Dahok. Demanding the right to take his body back if only to see it destroyed so that the demon within it could be cast out. Yelling and carrying on, day and night, pacing in a frenzy of frustrated energy through the precincts of the Other Side when Hades refused his demands, unable to rest, to find any peace…well, it had been annoying and time-consuming, to say the least.

Sighing, Hades acknowledged now, to himself, that it had also been noble, evidence of a boundless courage even in the face of impossible odds.

But, the god had held Iolaus off, resolute, though he began to keep a closer watch on the depredations of Dahok as he found himself bringing more and more souls into inventory because of the evil creature's murderous inclinations. And, he'd heard rumblings that the Fates weren't happy. Indeed, there was a rumour that Atropos had gone to Zeus to warn him that this was the evil she had foretold that time years ago when Hera had cursed Iolaus to have never been born…the evil that might yet threaten the gods. It was said that the three old biddies were furious, and ceaseless in their efforts to battle the rot that had settled into the threads of their tapestry, shriveling and unraveling it even as Clothes worked tirelessly to spin new strands and Lachesis wore out her fingers, weaving them in to strengthen the pattern.

It was also said they were afraid because they were losing the war with the rot in their web of living thread.

Rumours like that unnerved the gods.

Still, the Olympians had all held back, as yet not directly challenged by the demon in the mortal's body. Hades had been wondering for more than a week now if they were collectively in some state of denial… afraid to take on what they didn't understand…frightened they might lose. Hiding their heads in the sand, remaining aloof as if this would save them. He had come to believe that they might wait too long.

The gods had watched, with the kind of fascinated awe with which doomed prey watches a swaying King Cobra, as the monstrous evil had unleashed an army of zombie like followers, to march into battle at his command… unstoppable except when destroyed. Those mindless creatures hadn't the wit or sensibility to know when they'd been wounded…just crawled on, killing until they were killed.

While Dahok laughed.

So Hades had sensed Iolaus was right before the restless, tormented soul had put the threat to the gods into words. This evil and treacherous being of ultimate and absolute destruction would not stop at a simple triumph over mortals. The demon was too arrogant, too full of his own sense of destiny. Today, when Iolaus' words had echoed his own assessment of the demon, had unconsciously underscored the warning of the Fates, and had clearly spelled out the threat that Dahok presented to Persephone, let alone the rest of them, Hades had finally decided he had enough reason to intervene.

Thinking about the knife in his pouch, he marveled again that no one else had ever come to retrieve it. Ares must not know where the remains of Callisto's body lay, and it was certain that little horror, Discord, didn't have a clue or she'd have raided the place long ago. Hades had known, as he knew all things about death, but he'd let it go, left it to molder here in the darkness. Oh, he supposed he could have used the weapon to make his own bid against his brother for ultimate power on Olympus, but he didn't really want it. Having to deal with the other gods and goddesses on a daily basis was more aggravation than he cared to contemplate. He'd made his bid, over the centuries, when Zeus' rule had seemed threatened, largely to keep characters like Ares from assuming more power than he could handle wisely, to keep a balance, not because he ever aspired to be the King of the Gods. He was content with his own domain, where he ruled supreme and unchallenged.

For a moment, he wondered if hind's blood would be sufficient to destroy this god…how could anyone know if it only worked on the gods of Greece, or if it had the power to kill all gods, everywhere? Chewing his lip, he reflected that if this didn't work, they might all truly be lost. All that would remain to them would be a collective action, all of the gods of Olympus united against the evil that was Dahok…but there was no guarantee that even if they could organize themselves to work together that it would be enough. Cynical and realistic as ever, Hades believed Dahok would tempt any number of them to fight amongst themselves, promising whatever it took, until they'd weakened their own power, decimated their own capacity to deal with him conclusively. Dahok would have them then…and would own the world, everything in, above and below it…or whatever such a blind force of destruction and chaos would have left to be owned, even by himself.

Too many questions…not enough answers. But the blade he now possessed was their best hope. Even if the blood did not kill Dahok, it might weaken him…and the thrust of the blade into the heart of the mortal body might be enough, if he were weakened, to drive him from the plane of life, back into the nothingness from which he'd come. The only question now was how to get close enough to the monstrosity to drive the blade into the body he wore. And, ah yes, a second question…whether to allow that brave mortal soul to risk his eternity to help in the reclamation of his body.

Cocking his head, as if listening, Hades honed in on Hercules' location. The thought of his nephew made him sigh, and reflect again at how the demigod had avoided confronting Iolaus' specter. And, now, Hades was quite certain, that in his capacity for endless hope, Hercules had convinced himself that Iolaus was locked somewhere inside his own body, enslaved to Dahok's will. In Hercules' view, it was no doubt simple… defeat Dahok and free Iolaus…save the world and get his best friend back in one bold stroke.

Well, Hercules was about to learn nothing was ever that simple…and that he would not be getting Iolaus back.

Not this time.

Atropos had cut the golden thread…given the fact that the mortal had managed to have his heart cleaved almost in two by that blade, she hadn't had much choice. Though, rumour had it, she hadn't been happy about it, believing that particular soul still had a part to play in the world of living men. Clothos had whispered as much to Demeter, while gathering wool for her spindle, sighing that Atropos had actually cursed at the time, muttering something to the effect that 'enough is enough and this time, Lachesis, you will not repair it!'.

It was said that the rot of their tapestry had begun shortly after the golden thread had been severed.

Everyone might have been a great deal better off if Atropos hadn't chosen this particular death to be irrevocable. Had she judged differently, one of the gods might have been moved to pity by Hercules' prayers and restored his friend to him while Iolaus' soul, so reluctant to leave, had still lingered in his body, robbing Dahok of the only thing he really needed. Without the shell of an empty body, one that held a warrior's heart, Dahok would never have been able to enter the world.

But, what was done, was done. The evil was now manifest in the world and had to be dealt with.

Sighing, the God of the Underworld vanished from the cavern.

* * *

They had first confronted Dahok in Sparta, the city state of austere and devout warriors, famed throughout the world. Where else to make the point that he was invincible? Sparta had fallen after less than a week of desperate battle, thousands of the finest warriors Greece would ever know destroyed by the mindless and seemingly endless numbers of priests Dahok had called from the hidden mountain caverns. Then, on to Argos, that fortress lasting less than two days, only this time, Dahok's minions moved on to also killing civilians, women and children. On to the north, they'd marched and the battle had been raging for three days outside of well-situated mountain fortress of Mycenae. But, the citadel had finally fallen, the evil, eerie demonic warriors pouring in through the Lion's Gate, and was burning now above them. Not a soul found inside the fortress was spared. Scores of Dahok's mindless creatures still patrolled the area, seeking yet more mortals to kill, while the main force moved on, heading north.

Over the past several weeks, Hercules had confronted Dahok time after time, being beaten and bashed for his trouble, flung about like a rag doll…taunted and tormented to be doing battle with a deadly horror that stalked the earth in his best friend's body. There'd been moments when Hercules had been certain that he could have killed Dahok, but the demon had called upon Iolaus' voice, showed him the desperate fear and helplessness in Iolaus' eyes, unable to believe that Hercules would actually kill him…and so the demigod had hesitated.

And, because he'd hesitated, more thousands of people had died.

Hercules had reached the point where he didn't know who he loathed more. Dahok for his wanton, murderous cruelty, or himself, for not having the strength to destroy…his best friend. It was crazy, part of him knew it. Iolaus was dead, gone…but what if he wasn't? What if Dahok was holding him hostage and in killing the demon, Hercules destroyed Iolaus along with him. Gods…how could he do that? Take that risk? The terrible dilemma, being torn by the need to both kill and save, was ripping his soul apart, bringing him to the edge of madness. It had reached the point when he'd run out of options and couldn't stand it much longer. Too many had died. Dahok was growing too strong. He had to choose…and, sickened by it, he knew what choice he was going to have to make.

Hercules knew he had to end this, and end it now.

He thought he might kill himself when it was over and pray for oblivion.

Because he wanted no part of an eternal awareness, whether alive as an immortal, or dead as a soul locked in Tartarus, that he might have saved the one person who meant everything to him and, instead, had killed Iolaus, one more time.

And now, they were in the midst of another fruitless confrontation in which Dahok was taunting Hercules by telling him about how the demon had gotten Iolaus to join with him to make the world a better place specifically by having godly powers to do the things that needed to be done. Hercules had encountered the demon in a wide meadow below the ramparts of Mycenae and knew as soon as he'd loped into the clearing that the demon had been anticipating his arrival.

"Ah, Hercules," Dahok had greeted the demigod, standing in his white robe as if his garment made his hideous filth something clean and pure. His tone was rich and mellow, reasonable if a trifle sorrowful, as he encouraged, "Come let us talk quietly for a moment in the midst of all this madness."

"I have nothing to say to you, Dahok," the demigod had snarled, looking around the landscape, wondering if this was the moment to attack the demon and try to defeat him one more time.

Dahok sighed and shook his head as he continued, "I simply wanted to tell you about Iolaus, about how he came to give me the right to use his body…and why he joined with me to change this world."

"Iolaus would never 'join' with you," Hercules spat, his eyes blazing at the insult to his friend.

"But…you're wrong, and if you'll listen, I'll explain," Dahok insisted, and when Hercules remained silent, trying to contain his anger and think clearly, the demon continued. He told a story about how he had met with Iolaus and laid out his plans…had shown Iolaus how he could use greater powers for the good of humanity. His tale revealed how he had tormented and tempted Iolaus with the power of a god, including tricking the warrior into condemning a still innocent man to death, hurtling from a narrow foot-bridge into a deep river gorge, to save a family the man might have killed. The demon painted powerful images, the scenes flashing before Hercules horrified eyes, up to the moment when Dahok revealed how Iolaus had clasped his hand in final, desperate agreement.

Hercules jerked his head away from the images, not wanting to believe the demon. "You must have tricked him," he stated, his voice hoarse as he stared the demon down. He knew he shouldn't listen…should in fact attack the monster, destroy it. But…he couldn't. Afraid that Iolaus was trapped inside that creature, and would be killed, he could not bring himself to take that last final act.

"Do you have so little respect for your friend's instincts and intelligence, Hercules…or are you jealous that he has abandoned you to join forces with me? Or is it simply that you cannot believe Iolaus would have the wit to act on his own, without your lead. After all, you are the hero, aren't you, and he was only your loyal follower. You know he'd have been nothing if not for you," Dahok taunted, his eyes glittering, his tone sarcastic.

"That's not TRUE!" Hercules shouted back, his voice ringing with intensity, hoping somehow that Iolaus could hear him, would know he still believed in Iolaus' decency and courage. "Iolaus is the best man I've ever known. A hero. My hero! I don't know what his life would have been like if he'd never met me, but I do know that my life would never have been the same…he never 'followed' me. Iolaus was my partner, my equal and my inspiration. I WILL NOT listen to you demean or diminish him! If you have him in your power, it is not willingly, I KNOW that…he is a hostage to your appalling and horrific powers. He'd stop you if he could."

With that, furious and sick at heart, Hercules had wheeled away, to join Nebula and Morrigan in a small glade at the edge of the forest. They'd been watching, listening, with varying degrees of disgust and empathy. Breathing hard, Hercules brushed by them, his jaw tight, fury and helplessness in his eyes.

Morrigan and Nebula silently watched Hercules as he leaned back against the trunk of a tree, exhausted, bruised, bleeding from scrapes on his arms and chest. Neither of them had ever seen him look so ravaged before. Wearily, he'd closed his eyes as he tried to shut out Dahok's taunting words…tried to block out the sound of the only voice he really wanted desperately to hear.

'Gods, Iolaus,' he prayed to his friend as he'd never prayed to any god, 'I can't stand this…can't do this… please, show me another way…I need you.'

"Come on, buddy," the creature called from the clearing not far from the small glade where they'd taken refuge, knowing they were there. Called in Iolaus' cajoling tones, "I know you miss me! It doesn't have to be this hard, Hercules. Why do you keep fighting me? Join me…and together, we can fight the gods, like we've always done. Only, this time, we could destroy them all! C'mon, Herc, whaddaya say?"

Hercules bowed his head and shook it, not bothering to answer. The voice might be Iolaus' but the words were not any that his best friend would ever utter. Instead, he again grappled with how to defeat the creature without killing it. Having deluded himself with an unquenchable hope that there might still be a way to get Iolaus back, he'd convinced himself that Iolaus' soul was captive, somewhere inside, and he couldn't risk murdering his best friend. Believing Iolaus was still somehow there, in his body, was better than what he'd feared for months…that Iolaus was lost, forever and irrevocably. He might finally have found a way to get Iolaus back…if only he could find a way to destroy Dahok while sparing the body he wore.

But, he just couldn't figure out how to do it.

And, he was honest enough to know he'd run out of time, even if he wasn't quite ready to admit it.

"You canna' give in to him, Hercules," Morrigan hissed, impatient to be done with this, to kill the evil thing while it was close, not more than two hundred yards away. Before they had to once again chase it over this wretched dry country of endless mountains and rugged hills. Before Dahok killed anyone else.

"I'm not giving in," the demigod replied wearily, rubbing his forehead, pushing his hair back as he stood away from the tree. He was pale, haggard…broken.

"Well, you're not doing much to stop him, either, I have to say!" she countered, wanting to fortify him…they'd need his strength to win this final battle with the demon. "He's an abomination… and we have to destroy him."

"No," Hercules replied, his voice dull and hopeless, belying his words, still not ready to concede, "there has to be another way." But, there wasn't…he knew it in his broken heart, in the depths of his ravaged soul. He was going to have to kill…but his mind again flinched away, unable to face the task ahead.

"What other way?" the Druid of Justice demanded hotly. "You've seen what he can do…he's killing people by the score, his army of zombie priests killing hundreds, maybe thousands…and why? Because you can't bear to damage that precious body…."

"Enough!" Hercules rounded on her, tired of her lack of understanding, of her constant nagging that he should just kill the creature and be done with it. Tired of the fact that she clearly had no empathy for the fact that he might also be murdering the best man he'd ever known. "I know what he and his army are doing! Gods, they've already taken Sparta, Argos and Mycenae…and now they're marching on Corinth! My brother is the King there! I want to stop Dahok as badly, more, than you do. But, I can't risk…"

"Hercules," Nebula cut in, her voice and face strained, burdened by the grief of what she felt she had no choice but to counsel now. "I know you loved him. I loved him, too. Gods, he died for me. But, Iolaus is DEAD. That thing out there isn't him. Morrigan is right. We have to destroy him before it's too late."

"You don't know that," Hercules protested, the strain of hope and despair warring for dominance in his voice. "You don't know that Dahok doesn't have Iolaus there, with him, held hostage…."

"If he's a helpless hostage, won't he be hating this, wanting it to be over?" Morrigan interjected, her tone hard. She didn't want to hurt Hercules, but she had to make him see sense. One man's life could not be worth this cost, no matter how decent or good he had been. "Yer fine friend would no doubt welcome death at this point. And, if he's not helpless, then he deserves to be destroyed along with that terrible demon that's wearing his skin."

"Iolaus would never allow this if there was anything he could do to fight back!" Hercules thundered at her. "You never knew him…you have no right to demand…."

"Rights, is it?" she sneered, her eyes flashing. "And what gives you the right to stand back while that thing kills innocent people? Face it, Hercules, either your friend is dead or he soon will be…as soon as we figure out how to kill that beast in his body. I say, kill the body and the beast with it."

His gaze shifting from Morrigan's contemptuous gaze to Nebula's haunted one and then to the ground, he shook his head, not wanting to hear them, not wanting to acknowledge that they were right. Horror blossomed in his breast as he clenched his fists. Gods…how could he do this? Not knowing….

"Settle down, all of you," intruded a cool voice. "You don't yet possess the weapon you need to take down a god…and that's what Dahok is, for all that you call him a demon. Nothing that would kill a simple mortal will destroy him."

They wheeled in shock to see the black-cloaked god observing them with a disdainful glance. But, before Hercules could demand to know why Hades had appeared, Dahok, vastly amused by the dissension he was causing in their ranks, called out again, this time using his own deeper, more mellow voice, "Hercules, tell you what. I'll make you a deal. Give me your body and I'll release this one back to Iolaus. You could save him, Hercules. Isn't that what you want most…to save your best friend?"

The demon lied smoothly, with no compunction. He didn't know where Iolaus' soul was…only where it wasn't. And, he sure wasn't holding the warrior's spirit hostage…it was the body he'd needed, not the soul. Once Iolaus' body had conveniently died, his soul had served no purpose except to vacate the vessel that the demon needed. And, once he'd finished with this inferior body, and removed the power that kept it whole, the empty vessel would corrupt quickly.

But, by then it wouldn't matter.

He would have a far superior body and as for Hercules' soul? It could go wherever it wanted…but there'd be no room, or need, for it any longer in the body it currently wore.

"What do you say, Hercules? Do we have a deal?" he called again, smiling coldly, knowing he driven the demigod to the point where such an option might well be irresistible. The fool was arrogant enough to believe he might triumph in a battle of wills for the control of his strength.

"Hercules! You can't do that!" Nebula and Morrigan had shouted together, horrified and appalled.

But, Hercules had only stiffened at Dahok's words, ignoring the women, his expression distant and thoughtful. This was a new offer…and one he was prepared to consider. He could save Iolaus and fight Dahok on his own turf, with his spirit and mind, not just his strength…hold the demon back from absolute power, destroy him from the inside.

It might work.

Hades had heard enough. Dahok's words more than confirmed Iolaus' assessment and the Fates' dire warnings…and the god didn't like the speculative look in his nephew's eyes. It was time for Hercules to face the cold, hard, facts or he might give in to Dahok's ploy. "That's it," he said, moving in too quickly for the distracted demigod to react. Grabbing Hercules by the arm, Hades growled, "You're coming with me."

The two warrior women, one a Queen and the other a Druid, gaped as the stranger and Hercules vanished.

"And who the divil might that grim fellow have bin…and where has he taken Hercules?" Morrigan demanded, whirling on Sumeria's tall and imposing ruler.

"Damned if I know," Nebula replied flatly, frowning. Bracing her hands on her hips, she blew out a disgusted breath and looked away, heartily sick of it all. The horror of seeing Iolaus' body used this way. The perpetual grief of hearing his voice and knowing it wasn't the man she loved. The haunted look on Hercules' face, understanding that it didn't begin to convey the suffering in his heart. The death that had surrounded them for weeks now. The helplessness of not being able to stop the demon from desecrating her lover's body, using it to kill and maim, terrified that Iolaus was still there, somewhere inside, tortured by what he couldn't control…destined to die again, once they found a way to destroy the demon.

Nebula hated it…all of it.

And, this mouthy little harridan from Eire wasn't helping any.

'Justice,' the Queen thought disparagingly as she turned her gaze back to Morrigan. Nebula wondered what this woman knew of justice, for all that it was her domain back on her northern, misty isle. If there'd been any justice in any of this, it wouldn't have been Iolaus' body that Dahok was wearing.

With a shaft of terrible guilt, Nebula knew it would have been hers.

* * *

"Hades! What are you doing? I don't have time for this!" Hercules railed at his uncle, furious to have been pulled away with no choice in the matter…just when he'd been given an offer he'd seriously considered taking.

"Make time," Hades replied coldly, as he waved at someone behind the demigod's back to draw them forward.

Caught by his uncle's action, realizing for the first time that his uncle had brought him to Persephone's Garden in the centre of Hades palace temple on the Other Side, Hercules stiffened at the way the god was looking past his shoulder. The demigod didn't want to turn around, didn't want to know…didn't want to face the end of all hope…or the reality that had haunted his thoughts and dreams for almost a year.

Iolaus…dead. Locked forever on the Other Side.

"Hercules?" The warm, so familiar voice was almost tentative as it cut across his thoughts and touched his tattered soul.

"No," the demigod whispered, bowing his head, closing his eyes against this no longer avoidable truth.

Iolaus' voice. Here, on the Other Side. Not in that body. Here. Iolaus was here…dead. Irretrievable. He had nothing to bargain…no debts to trade. If he'd had any means by which to rescue Iolaus from Elysium, he'd have come here long, long ago in the hope of finding him here. But, he hadn't anything, any way, and so he'd avoided this final truth, unable to face it and finally convincing himself that Iolaus had never been here, but was still locked within his body, still accessible, still capable of being restored to life.

But, he wasn't. And now Hercules knew it. It was all he could do to remain standing, to not fall to his knees, finally and utterly defeated by a fact he couldn't change. Iolaus was dead…forever gone.

Hades moved off to join Persephone, to draw her a little away. They'd get nowhere until these two men had found some way to bridge the chasm of guilt that yawned between them.

"Herc…don't shut me out like this!" Iolaus insisted, moving forward to take his buddy's arm and turn him around.

But, Hercules flinched away, leaving them both frozen, locked in their emotions. The look of shock and infinite hurt on Iolaus' face as he stared wordlessly at Hercules' rigid back pulled at Persephone's heart, but she could also feel Hercules' pain. She thought she might weep for them both as she felt Hades' grip on her arm tighten. Glancing up at him, she read anger in his eyes. He'd expected more from his nephew… the mortal's soul deserved better.

Finally, an eternal moment later, Hercules took a deep breath and turned slowly, his shoulders slumped, his posture one of abject defeat. Lifting eyes reddened and glistening with tears to Iolaus' tortured gaze, the demigod sighed heavily, then murmured, "I…I didn't want to believe…"

"What? That I'm dead? Gods, Herc…you saw me die! And…I told you in the cave that I was really dead, for good this time. What? You'd rather think I'm part of that monster?" Iolaus interjected, hurt, angry. "You could have easily found out, you know…you could have come to see me."

Hercules swallowed hard and looked away, shaking his head again as he lowered his gaze to the ground. "I couldn't come until I had a way to get you back…I couldn't face you…" he replied, his voice distant, haunted by the unendurable despair he'd carried since that terrible moment when Iolaus had left him, and he'd felt the massive chill of death sink into his own soul.

Iolaus rubbed his hands up over his face, through his curls and then dragged them back down his cheeks again as he tried to get hold of his emotions. But, he wasn't having much luck. Seeing Herc like this was tearing him apart. And, he was carrying his own devastating burden of guilt and grief. He'd been waiting for Hercules to come to see him, to at least visit if not fight for his return, for almost a year. And, he'd convinced himself that Herc hadn't because, when you got right down to it, the demigod had to be furious that his friend had sacrificed his life. He should probably count himself lucky that Hercules hadn't just slugged him for having caused all this trouble.

But, now was not the time to deal with any of that. There were more important things at stake.

Licking his upper lip, Iolaus finally replied as calmly as he could, "Look, we can have a guiltfest later. Right now, we've got to deal with that monster. I want him out of my body, and I want to stop him from hurting any more people. So, how're we going to do this?"

"'We' aren't going to do anything, Iolaus," Hades informed him, drawing back into the conversation. "I have decided that I will not allow your soul to be put at risk."

Iolaus rolled his eyes as he threw up his hands, turning in a small, frustrated circle. Pointing at Hercules as he argued with the god, he blurted out angrily, "All my life, he insisted on protecting me, ending up in an agony of guilt and anger when he couldn't. And, now, you want to protect my soul. What do I have to do to convince you that neither of you have that right or responsibility. It's my own fault that I'm dead…and it's my soul, my choice…and my body we're talking about, in case no one has noticed. So, I repeat, how are we going to do this?"

"Iolaus," Hercules moved to intervene, Hades words having broken through his daze of pain. Iolaus' soul was at risk? Gods, 'dead' was more than bad enough… 'oblivion' was inconceivable!

But, Hades raised an imperious hand, drawing both of their attention. "Look, just settle down…this might not be all that difficult," he counseled in his austere, remote way. "Hercules, I heard Dahok make you an offer that would let you get close to him. Once you do, you can kill him with this." The God of the Underworld drew the dagger from his pouch and held it out to Hercules.

Both heroes recognized the knife Hercules had pounded into the stone balustrade at Ares' Temple two years before. Iolaus whistled softly then muttered wryly, "Well, that oughta do it."

Hercules cut him a quick glance as he moved forward to take the weapon from Hades, staring at it a moment, remembering what Iolaus had gone through to get it…how he'd saved Alcmene's life from Callisto, and his own, before he'd even been born. Nodding silently, he secured it in his vest. Now that he knew Iolaus was not trapped within his body, there was nothing to restrain him from destroying Dahok. Perhaps, if the Fates smiled upon him, the demon would also kill him and he'd finally be released from this unendurable pain.

"Wait a minute," Iolaus challenged, frowning as he worried over Hades' words and the look on Hercules' face. "What did you mean that Herc could get close to Dahok…what offer? And how close? Hercules won't get any second chances, you know."

Hades gazed at Hercules as he replied, "Dahok has offered to exchange your body for Hercules' body…and has promised that you would be restored to life if Hercules agrees."

"What? Is that possible? No, wait, it doesn't matter…no way!" Iolaus protested, looking from the God to his friend.

But, the look in Hercules' eyes said only too plainly that he would still consider the deal… if it was possible. He looked toward Hades, one brow quirked in silent enquiry.

But the God shook his head. "No, it is not possible. Dahok lied to you, Hercules, to gain your willing agreement to cede your body to him…when he is finished with Iolaus' body, he'll simply discard it without a moment's thought. He hasn't the either the power or the inclination to bring Iolaus back to life."

The demigod swallowed and looked away, sagging a little as yet another bleak hope was crushed, returning his gaze to his friend when Iolaus sighed with relief, "Well, that's good." Catching Hercules' look of surprise, he clarified, "I mean, not good that I can't get my life back…but good that you won't be tempted into such a stupid deal."

"Alright, then, that's settled. Come, Hercules, I'll take you back and you can…" Hades broke in briskly, wanting to get this over with.

But, Iolaus cut him off…which he'd taken to doing with annoying regularity throughout this last sojourn on the Other Side. "Uh…not quite. I don't like the idea of Hercules doing this on his own. Dahok is more powerful than anything we've ever gone up against. If he senses that Herc is up to something, or fights back, I gotta tell you, Hercules won't stand a chance. That monster's just been playing with him…letting Herc believe that he has the strength to resist that power. But, believe me, Hercules doesn't…and if Dahok gets control of his body, we'll be up against something none of us wants to think about."

Setting his irritation with the aggressive little mortal aside, Hades nodded thoughtfully, "Fair point. I assume you also have a suggestion…it seems you always do."

"Well, yeah…I do," Iolaus replied, avoiding Hercules' eyes, keeping his gaze locked on the god. "We need a distraction, so Herc can do what he has to do. No one else will be able to get close, without alerting the demon, and his zombies can restrain an ordinary mortal…but a ghost might be able to sneak up on him."

Hades frowned heavily at the idea, knowing exactly what Iolaus was suggesting. The intrepid little soul seemed to be determined to risk all that was left of his essence. But, before he could reply, Hercules pulled his friend around to face him. "What are you talking about?" the demigod demanded, certain he wasn't going to like it.

Iolaus' gaze was clear, resolute, as he replied, "It's my body…I can slip back in…distract him long enough for you to…to kill him." Both were only too conscious that they were talking about Hercules burying the knife in his vest into Iolaus' body…and now Iolaus was planning to be there, inside, when he did it.

Horrified by the idea as he realized now what Hades had decided to prohibit Iolaus from doing, shaking his head in numb denial, Hercules protested, "No, Iolaus…it's too dangerous. What would happen to you when I kill Dahok?" But, then, another grim, desperate hope captured his thoughts and he turned to Hades, inexpressible longing in his eyes as he asked, "Unless…Hades…if Iolaus was in his body, and the hind blood kills the demon… wouldn't he, Iolaus I mean, still have a chance to live?"

Both of them turned to Hades for the answer to that question.

The god squeezed the bridge of his nose. What was it with these two? They both seemed to think that Iolaus could wander in and out of the Underworld, in and out of his body…in and out of life, virtually at will. Sighing, he had to concede he held some of the responsibility for that. "What do you imagine, Hercules? That you could just scratch Dahok's arm and the hind's blood will do the trick?"

"Well, yeah," nodded the demigod, a little diffidently. Not sure why Hades made it sound so stupid. Why couldn't it work?

"No way!" shouted Iolaus, now that Herc's intentions were clear…he'd thought his friend had simply been asking if Hades would allow Iolaus to live again, a kind of exchange for ridding the world of Dahok. But, Iolaus knew a superficial wound, however fatal it might eventually prove to be, couldn't be fast enough… they had to be sure that Dahok, and the body he wore, was dead, period, full stop.

The quicker, the better.

"Look, even if it's only a pretense to get close, Herc will have conceded his body to Dahok. If that monster has any time at all, he'll fight Hercules, move into his body and whatever effects of the hind's blood in my body might have on him will be lost," Iolaus argued. "Dahok will be armed, too, you can bet on that! If he takes over Herc before the hind's blood gets to him…it'll be game over. We can't risk that!"

"Hmm," Hades mused as he pondered the dilemma, causing Iolaus to flick Hercules an 'see, I told ya!' expression, which the god wiped from his face by asking wearily, "And you, Iolaus, do you think you would just trundle back here as soon as Hercules sticks it to Dahok?"

Iolaus shrugged, "Sure, whatever, why not?" He hadn't thought much about it, in all honesty…but nor did the possible dangers sway him from his steadfast commitment to stop Dahok. He'd faced the prospect of what this might ultimately cost and he had accepted it. But, he didn't want Hercules to realize what the price might be. Not yet. Not while such an appreciation of the risks might compromise Herc's determination to act…to do what had to be done.

But, Hades' question spurred Hercules to demand, "What could happen to him? What did you mean earlier that his soul could be at risk?"

Ignoring Hercules as he studied Iolaus while he considered the risks either way, Hades' eyes narrowed as he shook his head. No soul deserved oblivion…and this particular soul deserved a whole lot better than that. Finally, he responded, holding Iolaus' eyes with his implacable gaze, "If you were quick, you might make it out. But, we don't know if the hind's blood will utterly destroy Dahok or only weaken his hold on a body that is once again irrevocably rendered incapable of life, which," he added, shooting a quick glance at the demigod, "Hercules, is why you must deal a death blow." Hades once again sought and held Iolaus' steady gaze, as he continued, "If the poison doesn't work instantaneously, Dahok will no doubt be in a furious rage. He'll want to make someone pay for getting in the way of his grandiose schemes…he's likely to drag you along with him into the void."

"Don't worry, I'm quick," Iolaus assured him cockily, waving off the possibility of not being quick enough, not wanting anymore details of what might happen, not at least so long as Hercules was there to hear them. Well, actually, even if Herc wasn't there, he wouldn't want to hear the details. If it happened, it happened. Knowing what it would be like, worrying about it in advance, wouldn't help anything.

"Drag him where?" the demigod asked, not to be put off. His chest was tight with anxiety, his throat thick with fear for what his friend was proposing to risk. 'The void'?

"Down into the abyss of oblivion…an endless fall to nothing," Hades replied starkly, not surprised to see all the blood drain from Hercules' face at that horrific prospect.

"An endless fall, huh?" Iolaus mused into the silence, then grinned as he shrugged, "Well, how bad could that be…it's the landing that hurts!"

Hercules swatted him, unconsciously reverting to old and dear habit, eliciting a startled, 'Ow!' and a giggle…that went straight to the demigod's heart. Shaking his head at the predictable response, Hercules turned to Hades. "Since my partner doesn't seem to grasp the simple fact that the risk is unacceptable, why don't we just leave him here to think about it while you take me back."

Iolaus' grin vanished as if it had never been. "Partners work together, Hercules…or is it that you've just forgotten that you ever had one? The gods here know, you sure haven't bothered to check up to see how I was doing. You've never even bothered to weep grieving tears for me, not once…I guess maybe I never deserved them. Or, maybe, you're just plain happier with your new partner, Morrigan, and you figure she'll be all the help you need," he challenged, his voice cold, knowing it wasn't fair, beyond caring at that point. He was not about to let Herc take this monstrous risk alone. "Well, she won't…and if you try to do this on your own, you'll only make things worse."

Hades winced when the demigod visibly paled, cut to the core by the harsh words. But, Hercules had been pushed too far. Rounding on Iolaus, he shouted, "Morrigan has nothing to do with any of this and you damn well know it! What do you want from me? This is about you pushing me into a position where I'm forced to drive a knife into your heart…not your 'body's' heart, Iolaus…yours. Because you want to be in there, fighting with Dahok, when I do it. Knowing that I might not just be killing you again…but that I might destroy everything, every last thing, that you are. How can you even begin to suggest that? Dammit, Iolaus, I dragged you into this mess…even if you didn't help by leaping straight into it! It's up to me to do what I can to fix this, to not hurt you anymore than I already have…I will not allow you to be part of this!"

"Oh, so here it comes, the 'it's my fault but you're stupid,' routine," Iolaus shouted right back. "Allow me? Who are you to decide my fate? 'Leapt straight into it?' Yeah, I guess I did. But, you'd have done the same thing before you just stood there and watched Nebula impaled by that blade, don't try to tell me you wouldn't have! And you'd be just as determined as I am now to make this right, if you were stuck here instead of me! As for 'dragging me into this mess', that's just plain garbage…but you sure haven't done much to try to get me out of it."

"That's not true!" Hercules raged. "I did everything I could to get you back…everything! I would have given my life if that would have made any difference!"

"Everything but come to see me, to try to bargain with Hades!" Iolaus slammed back. "Oh, I know it would have been useless. But, do you know how long I thought it was because you really did blame me, and hated me for letting you down? And, then, when Dahok took over my body, how often I've wondered if you blame me for that too, because I practically gave it to him?" Iolaus stormed, all the pain of the last long months pouring out as he shouted up into his partner's face. "Dammit, Hercules. How could you abandon me like that, to face that guilt alone?"

"Abandon you?" Hercules gasped, the fight gone out of him at the naked agony in Iolaus' voice and eyes. "Abandon you?" he repeated, his voice cracking, "Iolaus, I've carried your memory with me every moment of every day. But, I have not been able to mourn you, weep for the hopeless loss of you, because I can't face the fact that you're dead and I can't do a damned thing to change that fact! I'd give anything to get you back again. Anything."

"So…you really would have given in to Dahok," Iolaus glared at him, his suspicions confirmed. "How dumb is that? It's not enough that I fell for his tricks, you were going to risk letting him have you." Turning to Hades, Iolaus snapped, "You see? I can't let him out on his own. He's crazy! Dumb demigod. And you're going to trust him to do this on his own? I don't think so."

Hades was grinning, no, actually chuckling, as he gazed from one to the other.

"Hades! This isn't funny!" Hercules snarled, wondering how much of what Iolaus had said he'd really meant, and how much had been to draw him to the point where his buddy could appeal to Hades that they didn't dare go through with this without his help.

Wiping a hand over his face to restore some semblance of decorum, the god replied, "Perhaps not, but it's nice to see him yelling at someone else for a change. Hercules, you have no idea the problems Iolaus has been creating ever since…"

"Who cares about your problems?" they both snapped simultaneously, then turned to look at one another, and realizing that Hades had just pulled their chain, they each blew out a brief, chagrined chuckle, a little self-conscious at how predictable they were. At how much they still reacted the same way, thought and felt the same things. And how each of them, always, would be prepared to risk anything to assure the safety of the other. Hercules reached out and pulled Iolaus toward him, into a brief heartfelt hug, as he murmured hoarsely, "Gods, I've missed you."

"Well, I see everything seems back to normal," Persephone observed, deciding it was time to join the discussion. "So…what have you decided?"

"As normal as a demon running around in my body killing countless people, can be," Iolaus muttered as he pulled away from Hercules, sobering as he again focused on all that was at stake.

"Oh…I count them," Hades observed, but absently, as he frowned, weighing the options. If Hercules' deception failed, he still could possibly align the gods to fight Dahok collectively. They'd be fighting the added strength that Hercules' body would give the demon, but that fact might actually be enough to convince the others to get engaged. Might. But, that 'might' was enough to sway him toward his instinctive responsibility for safeguarding any soul, let alone this particular soul, in his domain. Implacable once again, he shook his head. "Iolaus, I take your point, but…it's too great a risk to your eternal soul. Hercules will have to do this alone."

"NO!" Iolaus roared his protest, but the god waved it away as he moved toward Hercules to lay a hand on his shoulder. The two heroes exchanged a long look, Iolaus' eyes full of fear for his friend, and frustration at being left behind…Hercules' gaze relieved to know his friend wouldn't be risking his soul.

Iolaus was still crying out, "Don't do this, Hades…don't leave me behind!" when Hercules and Hades vanished.

Iolaus felt like he might explode. This was wrong! They were making a terrible mistake. Dahok would figure it out, and he couldn't let that happen. He had to help. He was the only element of surprise they had, the only thing Dahok wouldn't be suspecting or guarding against. Without him, it was only too likely that the demon would defeat Hercules, and in defeating him, would destroy all that he was to take over the demigod's body. Sick with fear, furious with helpless, Iolaus shook his head, his fists clenched. He could not let that happen!

Wheeling on Persephone, he reached toward her and begged with all that he was, "Please…you have to take me there. They don't know Dahok like I do…they haven't felt his power. Dammit…it's not just Hercules! It's everything and everyone…you have to help me do this!"

Persephone studied him thoughtfully, moved by his desperate, agonized plea. She knew Iolaus was no fool, nor was he given to suicidal missions for no good reason. But, he'd risk everything for Hercules… however he might say it was for the world. But did that matter? He was truly terrified, certain that Hercules was going to his doom…and if Hercules was lost, so might they all be. She decided she believed him…believed he was right and Hades had been wrong to leave him behind. But… "Iolaus, it's your soul that you're risking," she reminded him quietly, her voice full of compassion. "We both know you haven't the strength to break away from Dahok once you engage with him."

"Like I said, 'my soul…my choice'," he replied grimly, determined. "I'll take my chances. Just…just get me there."

If something went wrong, something he could have prevented by being there, she knew his soul would never know any peace. Nor, ultimately, would the world…or the gods. Though Hades had decided to protect his soul, as was his responsibility and commitment, she had no such accountability. She cared for Iolaus in her own way, but when weighed in the balance of the future of the earth and the gods, one mortal soul was worth the sacrifice, if sacrifice it must be.

Pale at the decision she was making, but resolute, she nodded slightly…and held out her hand.

* * *

"Well, it was nice of ya to come back, Hercules…and did ya have a nice vacation?" Morrigan demanded sarcastically, her relief at seeing him boiling over into anger for the fear she'd felt.

"They say a change is as good as a rest," he replied evenly, ignoring the venom in her words and voice, understanding her better than she sometimes understood herself. "Morrigan, Nebula…this is Hades, my uncle. He's just given me a way to destroy Dahok."

Nebula looked from the god to Hercules. "And…Iolaus?"

"Dahok doesn't have him…he's on the Other Side," the demigod replied quietly, looking away from the pain in her eyes. "I'm sorry…there's no way to get him back."

Nebula nodded tightly and looked away, trying to find some solace in the fact that at least Iolaus was out of this…safe, or as safe as he could be.

"So…you'll kill him, then?" Morrigan demanded. "How?"

"By giving him what he wants," Hercules replied. When the women started at that, he smiled at them reassuringly, as he urged, "Trust me."

But, Hades, looking past Hercules' shoulder toward the demon stiffened, seeing what the others had not seen.

Persephone and Iolaus had just appeared on the far side of the clearing behind the demon, out of his line of sight, careful not to attract his attention, less he could see them though mortals couldn't. "Damn it," Hades cursed, with feeling.

"What?" Hercules demanded, then turned to follow his uncle's gaze. "NO! You have to get them away from here!" he ordered, whirling back to face the god. 'Oh gods, what's Iolaus going to do? Please, not this…not this…' Hercules thought with a rising panic. How could he attack Dahok if it meant putting Iolaus at risk…not only his life this time, but his soul?

"I can't, not now…not without potentially alerting Dahok that something is going down," Hades murmured, shooting an icy glare at his wife for having defied his will. She held his gaze calmly, believing with all her heart that this was necessary.

"Send who where?" demanded Nebula, looking from Hades to Hercules, then out through the trees that gave them modest shelter…seeing only Dahok in the clearing beyond. Morrigan, though, also a demigod, could see what the mortal Queen could not. Tense, wondering what the apparently real Iolaus and what must be a goddess were doing there, she turned her attention back to the drama playing out in their little glade at the edge of the forest.

Ignoring the women, Hades turned to Hercules, knowing the stakes had now risen so high he might not be able to trust his nephew to carry out his role…and so he threw the full measure of the impossible choice at the demigod. "You'll have to go on…there is no other choice. The longer you wait, the more havoc that demon will create, you know that! The bulk of his army has already reached the walls of Corinth, and that city along with her King will fall before the next dawn comes."

"But, Iolaus…" Hercules hesitated, horrified to know it was his hand that could very well condemn Iolaus for all of forever…but so many other lives, his brother's life…gods, how could he do this?

"Iolaus has quite clearly already made his own choice," Hades responded coldly, though part of him respected the courage it took to face eternity locked in the embrace of a horrific and enraged demon. Sighing, he continued, "You know him better than I do. Now that he's here, do you honestly think he'll hesitate to take that demon on, whether or not you play your part?"

Hercules squeezed his eyes shut at that too perceptive question…and shook his head. He knew only too well that Iolaus would forge ahead, attack Dahok, with or without him. For a moment, a blind, searing moment, he felt a surge of fury, and something he wouldn't acknowledge to himself that Iolaus had put him in this impossible position…hate. How could Iolaus do this to him? How could he willfully condemn Hercules to the act of possibly destroying everything that either of them were? Because, if killing Dahok ultimately ended up costing Iolaus' soul, Hercules knew he'd turn the hind's blood dagger on himself. Numb, horrified despair swamped the hate, burying it, leaving only devastation in its wake.

Time was dragging on. And the demon had become increasingly impatient, weary of waiting for Hercules to make up his mind to accept his offer. So, he'd decided to add a little more incentive. If Hercules wouldn't trade for his dead friend, maybe he could be persuaded to save two who still lived. Distracted, his victims had let their guard down, allowing Dahok to maneuver a considerable number of his forces to surround them. As Hercules struggled with what he had to do, Dahok flicked a bored hand, and dozens of his zombie priests swarmed into their small clearing, surrounding them, and they were caught in a desperate fight for their lives.

"Surrender now, Hercules, and I'll spare their lives!" the demon shouted above the noise of sudden battle. "Call it a bonus for choosing to get your friend back!"

Hades couldn't intervene lest he alert Dahok that another power had entered the war against him. But, he also thought that this attack might well work to their advantage, making it even more convincing when Hercules appeared to capitulate. It was, after all, exactly what the demon had no doubt hoped when he'd launched this attack. Nebula and Morrigan were both fighting with a grim desperation, lashing out with swords, while Hercules tossed zombies with a blind rage, almost grateful to have something on which to spend his fury and fear. But, there were too many, and the women were overwhelmed, Nebula tripped to the ground, a sword poised over her heart and Morrigan caught from behind, a blade at her throat.

Hades shoved through the mass of mindless men to grab Hercules by the arm and pull him back. "Surrender now, while he's gloating, expecting it! You'll never have a better chance," he ordered the demigod, his voice low, intense. "If you don't, he'll kill them, Corinth will be the next to fall…and Iolaus will attack him alone."

Hercules' harried gaze took in the hopeless situation in the glade then turned back to his uncle, knowing all his choices were gone. His face gaunt, a ghastly look of sick awareness of what must be done and done now, he swallowed, driven to the brink of madness, a lost soul screaming out with a voice made wretched by utter desolation, "ENOUGH! Spare them and I will…submit to you."

The sword and knife pulled back from their hostages, but remained too close for comfort. Hercules held Hades' gaze a moment longer, as he begged with all he had left, "Help him if you can." Then, he turned and walked from the clearing, toward the monster in his best friend's body. His gaze was bleak with empty hopelessness as he looked past the demon's shoulder and saw Iolaus moving stealthily toward Dahok's back.

Neither hero dared to look into one another's eyes, but Hercules could see a look of grim satisfaction on Iolaus' face as he prepared to launch his attack, and he shuddered with wordless, anguished terror. Why did Iolaus feel he had to do this, take such terrible risk? 'Doesn't he trust...?" thought Hercules in desperation…and a new measure of defeat. Why would Iolaus trust him? Hadn't his arrogance gotten his friend killed? The demigod felt more of his heart splinter away, more shredding of a wounded soul.

Dahok stood with a sword in his hand, holding it across his body like a scepter, as he smiled broadly in approval of the demigod's decision and his all too evident spiritual and physical devastation. "Very good, Hercules," he congratulated the hero, his voice rich and mellow with malice, "you have finally made the right decision."

Hercules shifted his gaze to the demon's eyes, letting him read what he would of the blind despair that tortured the demigod's soul. With every step closer, Hercules' mind shrieked to him that he had to do this, that he had no choice…but his heart was breaking and his soul shrank away from the task at hand.

Tilting his head a little as he wallowed in the satisfaction of this victory over the demigod, Dahok directed him imperiously, "Come…kneel before me."

But, all was not as it seemed…it never was with Dahok. He was a god, with godly powers, and he could sense something was wrong. Hercules was not yet utterly defeated. No, the demigod was going to make one last play, intending to strike. The demon could almost smell the terrible, grim anguished determination that kept Hercules on his feet and moving forward. 'Well, let him delude himself for a few moments more,' thought the demon with malicious enjoyment, shifting his sword to be ready to make an immediate killing blow. Hercules had made a bargain, and so long as Dahok finished this before the demigod could resist, the bargain would hold…a willing sacrifice into which he could move.

Hercules faltered for a half step, his face haggard and gray, holding the demon's attention on him as his hand come up to rest over his heart, as if it was being torn from his breast…as, in fact, it was. Iolaus was now standing directly behind the demon, ready to make his move. Bowing his head, despising himself for his inability to watch his friend merge with Dahok, Hercules moved forward and dropped to one knee, directly in front of the demon, his motion covering the movement of his hand down into his vest where he grasped the hilt of the knife.

Dahok laughed in triumph, shifting to thrust his sword into Hercules' breast before the demigod could have ever completed his own attack…and Iolaus stepped forward, merging with him, his soul raging against the beast, striking with ultimate surprise. Inside the dimension of his mind, Iolaus leapt upon the horrific demon's back, scrambling to wrap his arm around the startled creature's throat, and set about throttling it.

Dahok shrieked at the completely unexpected attack, furious to have been surprised by something as puny and pathetic as a mortal soul. It was but a moment of lost concentration, less than a second of distraction from his focus upon the demigod…

But, it was enough.

Hercules screamed, a tormented, tortured cry of an enraged soul driven beyond the bounds of endurance, his heart shattering as he plunged the blood-encrusted knife into the body in front of him, straight into the heart… Iolaus' heart, while his other arm knocked Dahok's sword flying from the demon's loosened grip.

Catching Iolaus' body as it collapsed, dragging it into his arms, frenzied with fear and horror at what he'd just done, he screamed to his best friend's soul, "Get out of there! NOW!"

He had to know! He had to know before he let slip the last slender shreds of sanity that he had not destroyed Iolaus' soul.

* * *

Iolaus had felt the demon shudder at the deadly assault of the blade and was already moving, twisting away to slide from the monster's back, to try to make his escape.

But, Iolaus had realized somewhat to his shocked horror when Hercules had struck the blow, they'd all forgotten one thing when they'd talked about this plan, perhaps because they'd all come to think of his body and his soul as separate, unrelated entities.

He'd not just merged with Dahok, as if Dahok was the body and he was somehow separate. It was his body, and he'd become fully whole when he'd entered. Able to see and hear.

Able to feel.

And the blade in his heart was killing him.

The burst of sharp, sudden, horrific pain had left him reeling. The suffocating, raging, fire of it ripped through him, just like the last time in Sumeria. It took his breath away, dominated his thoughts, almost impossible to ignore. He felt a kind of panicked desperation that had nothing to do with knowing he was already a ghost, where dying again didn't matter a damn, and everything to do with his body fighting the assault, fighting the death that was stealing over it. Adrenaline pumped through his system, muscles contracted against the pain and the reality of extinction, lungs heaved for air and everything in him fought the letting go of life.

He heard Hercules shout at him, the demand to 'get out of there' and in his muddled sense of who and what he was, a dying body, a soul struggling to escape annihilation, he almost giggled. Every other time he'd felt like this, Herc had ordered him not to let go. But, the pain was too much and the urgency to escape Dahok too great for him to focus on much of anything but the need to keep moving.

Too slow…like moving through molasses. The light was fading and he couldn't see. Shaking his head, telling himself it was the physical illusion of his body dying, he forced himself to keep moving. It didn't matter which direction so long as it was away from the beast.

But, the beast that was Dahok, maddened by fury, and by the terror that pulsed through him at the burst of fire in his own being, reached out with fearsome claws to grab hold of the mortal soul that was slipping off its back, as he roared at Iolaus, "What have you DONE?"

"DESTROYED YOU, you freaking bastard…just like you destroyed me! DIE DAMN YOU!" Iolaus shouted back, triumphant, even as he squirmed desperately if ineffectually, kicking out and beating at the claws with his fists, trying in vain to get away.

Dahok's grip on his soul got tangled up in Iolaus' perceptions with Hercules' grip on his body, both holding him, one that he wanted to escape and one that he wanted to cling to, and the pain was raging ever more furiously through him bearing with it a sense of overwhelming weakness and futility. Gasping, as he had never gasped on the Other Side, breathing not being something he'd done in a while, he gritted his teeth, grim with determined effort to not let go of who he was…to not be lost in oblivion. 'You're dead, dammit,' he told himself to focus his efforts, 'the pain doesn't matter…fight!'

Weakened by the poison of the hind's blood that coursed through him so long as he was merged with Iolaus' body, the ugly creature that was Dahok staggered, dizzy and off balance. He could feel a void opening, as if at his feet…all four of them. The light of the mortal mind around him was rapidly dying from the lethal blow to the body that nourished it, slipping away into eternal darkness. Confused, believing for the first time the impossibility that he might die, the beast's grip slackened and Iolaus managed to pull away.

The warrior staggered and stumbled away gasping harder for breath as his body fought for life. With a sense of fractured time and place, disoriented, wanting to live and knowing he was already dead, confused, he only knew he had to get away from the demon. Lurching up, he staggered forward again, feeling as everything in him was dragging him back, holding him in his body, slowing him down.

This was the only time he'd actually tried to die, tried to escape a body he'd always held onto with everything that was in him and his own will to live held him inside. It was instinctive and irresistible… he'd had a lot more practice with holding on against all the odds than he'd ever had in letting go. Memories pulled at him, distracting him further and he could feel Hercules' grip around him tightening.

'Gods,' he thought when that awareness burst in, again bringing focus, 'I've got to get away from this monster!'

If he didn't, Hercules would never recover from what he'd had to do. If he didn't, he'd be the instrument of destruction…crushing all that was Hercules, driving him mad, driving him to his own death.

He had to get away! And, he tried again, lurching forward, feeling the pull of the void opening behind him. Tried desperately to put distance between himself and the flaying, furious monster that he'd come to destroy.

But he couldn't get away fast or far enough.

"NOOOOO!!!!!" shrieked the huge demon, lunging forward to snag Iolaus' leg, hauling him back. "NO! You've done this! You've ruined everything! I damn your soul for all eternity! You never were anything…now you're NOTHING!"

The demonic creature began to slip backward, into the void, dragging Iolaus with him. Terrified now at the aspect of an eternity clasped to the breast of this vengeful horror beyond his worst nightmare, Iolaus struggled with desperate fury to escape Dahok's grip. Everything in him focused upon survival, and, as his body died around him, his soul was able to bring more focused effort to the grim business of clawing his way back from the edge of oblivion. Snarling with determination, lunging forward, scrambling for something to grip, to hold onto…

…and his arm was clasped by another. Startled, Iolaus looked up into the darkness that now surrounded them, and saw the shimmering image of Hades leaning back with all his might, his powerful grip locked around Iolaus' wrist as he tried to pull the hero away from the demon.

Iolaus' soul belonged to him and he'd be damned if he'd let him go.

Dahok had slipped completely into the vortex that whirled in the void, a terrible dark funnel to nowhere, held at its brim only by his relentless grip on Iolaus' leg.

Iolaus felt himself being stretched, torn, between the two awesome powers…and could feel both grips slipping. Head down, twisting to lunge forward, reaching up with his other hand, he fought to grab more firmly onto Hades. But…the angle was wrong, the reach too far…and all he grasped was vacuum.

He felt Hades being dragged toward the rim of the pit, the god's feet slipping forward under the strain of the powerful sucking vortex into which Dahok had fallen. It was no good…Hades didn't have enough strength or power to defeat both Dahok and the vortex that reached out for them. The creature of chaos and destruction had not been destroyed by the poison, only weakened and distracted long enough for the body that had been his refuge to die around him, leaving him lost again in the terrible ether of nothingness. But, the body he'd occupied had died, and the poison it held was no longer a threat to the demon. Though he'd lost the power to walk the earth, his terrible strength was undiminished, reviving even as the body died.

Hades slipped again, closer still to the edge of the now howling vortex that Iolaus could feel pull at him as he half slipped over the rim. If Hades lost much more ground, the vortex would have him, too. The warrior's spirit struggled with the knowledge he was going to lose. Hades couldn't save him. He couldn't save himself. He'd gambled and lost…and now was the time to pay the price he'd said he was willing to accept.

It hadn't been part of the bargain to take another being with him.

Iolaus closed his eyes, felt a terrible, sinking, hollowness as he accepted the horror of his fate, then looked up at the God of the Underworld, crying out, "You can't help me…let me go before he takes you, too!"

Hades' eyes bored into his, and it was an awesome sight. A fire burned deep within them, a passion for life that left Iolaus feeling as if he'd never known what the will to survive had ever meant before. The God of the Underworld, the god who was death, understood life, and the precious treasure that it was, as no other being ever could. And, he knew its ephemeral, transient, vulnerability…but the soul was eternal, and this soul was his!

As Hades looked into the clear, blue eyes, so steadfast and courageous in the face of an inexpressibly wretched fate, so selfless in their insistence that he should not be lost, the god was staggered by the gift of life that was being urged upon him. Hades, the god most mortals feared and despised, was in Iolaus' estimation worth saving, worth the sacrifice of his own mortal soul, though it meant there'd be no hope of any kind of survival for himself. In that moment, that fleeting spark of time, Hades felt a surge of passion like a father feels for a son for this courageous, never defeated, soul, a surge of respect and an all consuming desire to protect and save this one, this single one, from the eternal void. The god recognized the love of life that he had thought he alone truly knew within Iolaus…recognized that Iolaus also loved life so well he'd never risk taking it from another, not even to save himself from extinction.

In that blinding moment of recognition and identification, Hades committed himself irrevocably to this struggle at the risk of his own soul.

"NO!" the god roared in defiance. "I will not let you go…you WILL LIVE! Fight, dammit! FIGHT!"

His eyes wide, stunned to realize this god was prepared to go the distance with him, even if the distance was forever, Iolaus stared at Hades, inexpressibly moved and shocked to the core of his being. Then, when he felt Hades slip again, sliding ever closer to infinite horror, Iolaus swallowed and nodded, a pact to the finish. Flashing the god a bright grin of complicity, of defiance in the face of annihilation, he lowered his head to renew his own desperate fight for survival. Kicking madly back at Dahok, he scrambled with his free hand for a purchase on the edge of the vortex, willing himself to lurch forward, to resist the force that was trying to rip him away.

Hades grinned wildly in the mad joy of this union of wills, and felt the force of his commitment, his determination surge through him with an almost blinding power beyond anything he'd known before…and then Iolaus heard him actually laugh, as if in unexpected triumph!

The warrior's soul didn't know that his final words had done what nothing else had. His final act of selflessness had tipped the balance, and Hades' response in refusing to save himself by losing Iolaus' soul, had demanded an answer.

Another's powerful grip took hold of Iolaus' flailing arm, inexorably drawing him back from the edge, lending irresistible force to Hades' own desperate and determined effort. The vortex pulled upon the demon, dragging him down, overpowering in its immensity, forcing his grip to slide along Iolaus' leg to his boot…and then off as he screamed in eternal rage while he plummeted into the void.

The sudden release sent Iolaus careening forward…and he laughed in giddy relief to know they'd won even as he found himself alone in the silent darkness of his lifeless body. In no hurry to return to the Other Side, Iolaus rested a moment inside the mortal remains of what he'd once been, savouring the bittersweet triumph of the last victory he and Hercules would ever achieve together. Marveling that he'd been rescued by the unassailable power of not one but two Olympian gods united in the quest to save his soul. Hot damn!

Now that the terrible terror and effort to simply exist was past, and the exhilaration faded, Iolaus again became aware of time and space. He could feel the weight of his lifeless body, unresponsive, but no longer in pain. And though he was in a place of total darkness, as if suddenly struck blind, he could still feel and hear, albeit dimly and indistinct, as if at a distance.

He could feel Herc's arms crushing him tight against the demigod's body, more tightly than he'd ever been held when he'd been alive and could have been hurt, but there was no pain, just a sense of…desperate longing.

He could feel the warmth of tears on what had been his face.

He felt a vague pull and release in his chest…heard the sound of Hercules voice, the cadences of anguish and horror, if not the words themselves.

And…he could hear the sound of Hercules weeping, as if all the world had ended and all hope was lost, the demigod's the last soul left, bereft, lost…forever inconsolable.

* * *

Consumed with helpless fear for his friend's soul, the demigod didn't notice that, as Dahok's attention was given fully to his mad bid for revenge, his zombies had pulled back, their eyes sightless as they turned stiffly and returned to the caverns deep beneath the earth from which they'd come.

Hercules hadn't known what was happening when Iolaus' body had begun to convulse in his arms just after it had collapsed from the death blow he'd struck, only that some horrific battle must be underway inside.

'Oh gods, no!' he'd thought, realizing that Iolaus hadn't made a quick escape, and must be engaged in a desperate fight for freedom. It was terrible to watch…screams, garbled, in the contrasting tones of the battling monster and warrior, lips twisting in painful effort to make the words, painful moans of defiance, the single word, 'die' the only one understandable to Hercules. The demigod's whole attention was focused, the whole of his will and being, on watching his friend's face, feeling Iolaus' convulse as his soul fought the evil that was trying to steal him away forever. The warrior's body went limp as the soul inside prepared to accept his fate, and Hercules groaned softly…but then, Iolaus sighed again, a thin cry of warning and sacrifice. His body flinched again in Hercules' arms, impossibly, given he'd stopped breathing moments before and the body was already dead.

Suddenly, Iolaus' shuddering body lost all animation, lying completely still in the demigod's arms…all vestige of life bleached away, the battle for his soul evidently over.

And all had gone silent in the meadow.

Silent but for the terrible, aching moan of grief from the demigod who, in his mindless horror, had crushed his friend's lifeless body to his breast as if he could draw Iolaus inside and share of his own life force.

As soon as they'd been freed by the departing zombie priests, Morrigan and Nebula had raced to stand behind him. Silent tears now streamed down the Queen's face as she again stared at the reality of a blade buried in her lover's heart. Morrigan was pale, her own heart aching for the man she loved…unable to find the words that could ever ease his pain.

Desperate to know, sick with fear, Hercules raised his head and sought Persephone's gaze knowing she would have the answer to the question that consumed him. "Is he…is he safe?" he whispered hoarsely, his tear-filled eyes begging her to tell him Iolaus' soul hadn't been lost.

Kneeling, she brushed the blond curls away from the now peaceful face and nodded, lifting her head to smile gently at the demigod. "Yes…he's safe."

Hercules' lips trembled as unconscious tears spilled onto his cheeks. Lowering his head, he drew Iolaus' body up against his chest, his chin resting on his friend's curls, shuddering with both profound relief and renewed, anguished, devastating loss. "Why?" he groaned, his voice thick with grief. "Why won't you give him back to me? Hasn't he earned the right to live?"

His voice cracked, his eyes squeezed shut against the memory of what he'd had to do. They could all say what they might want about the fact that this was only a demon he'd killed. But, it had been Iolaus' living heart that had been pierced by the blade he had driven into his best friend's body. Trembling with self-loathing, his gaze shifted to hilt of the weapon rising from the fatal wound. Crying out in inarticulate agony, he was unable to bear the hideous blasphemy of the sight of it. The horror of seeing that the knife he had wielded had cut through the old wound, a savage imitation of the blade thrown by Gilgamesh, devastated him completely, sundering what little purchase he still had upon his sanity.

Cursing, consumed with blinding rage, he violently ripped the knife out of Iolaus' body and threw it away, his arm falling back to cradle his friend's lifeless body again tightly against his chest.

And, finally, he wept uncontrollably, lost in the pain of his deed, with the bitter agony of the loss he'd known since Sumeria.

"Be at peace, Hercules," Persephone whispered softly, wishing she could heal his pain…understanding that no words, however sincerely offered, ever could.

He choked on her words, wretched, enraged, spitting back, "Peace? There is no peace! Only…." But, words failed him. There were no words to describe the agony of loss he felt, would always feel.

Hercules couldn't bear it, not this time, not any longer. The loss was too great…as fresh and raw as those terrible, ugly moments in Sumeria had been…as overwhelming as it had been every moment since. Except this time, his hand had wielded the blade, driving it with all his strength into Iolaus' heart, killing him. Inconsolable, he knew he would never stop grieving, never be whole again. There was nothing anyone could say, not even Iolaus, that would ever heal the gaping wound in his soul.

She sighed as she gently touched his bowed head, then she stood away from him, sincerely wishing that she did have the power to ease that pain, to make right what had been a terrible wrong.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, tears in her own eyes at the magnitude of such unendurable and unquenchable anguish. "Truly sorry…."

It was not her gift to give.

Atropos and Hades had both decreed…Iolaus was not to be granted another reprieve.

Scarcely having felt her touch, Hercules hugged Iolaus to him, as if he'd never let go…weeping with the misery of a soul that knew itself to be lost and forever lonely, the tears still rolling unchecked down his face. Unaware and uncaring of anything and everything else around him, he let the world drift away. This was his world, shattered beyond repair, his heart ripped into shreds, his soul in twisted tatters. He didn't have the strength to go on anymore. For what? His head bowed over his friend's body, he sank into despair, into a darkness of being that he had no will to struggle against, spiraling into a nothingness from which he'd never return…for he had no desire for anything but oblivion.

Until he felt the cool ephemeral grip of a small, once strong hand on his shoulder, and heard the warm cadences of the voice that had resonated in his soul for almost the whole of his life. The demigod's mind paused in its steady, methodical, unraveling of his sanity as he listened. "It's alright, Hercules," Iolaus consoled him.

When Hercules didn't respond, as if he hadn't heard, Iolaus frowned, feeling a deep flash of anxiety. But for the tears that slipped down his gray face, and the distant low, eerie keening of a lost soul, the demigod might have been carved of stone.

'What the…?' Iolaus thought, anxiety deepening to an icy surge of fear. He raised his voice as he squeezed the demigod's rigid shoulder as hard as he could, calling sharply, "Herc? Do you hear me, buddy? I'm here…you're not alone."

Nothing else could have drawn him back, nothing but that voice and the sharp naked fear that echoed in it. Stunned, like a man in a trance, Hercules lifted his head, confused. Iolaus was dead. How could he hear him now? Dead. Iolaus was dead. Must be going away now…leaving him. But, the voice…had to answer. His gaze locked on the face of the dead man lying in his arms, swallowing hard against the thickness of his throat, he rasped in a bleak, empty voice, "I will be…alone. You're only here…here to say…good-bye…."

Iolaus' eyes narrowed as he searched the ravaged expression of lost helplessness on Hercules' face, and he shook his head as he replied with firm deliberation, "No, Hercules…no. I'm not leaving. I'm staying."

The demigod frowned, trying to understand, trying to make sense of the words. Iolaus was dead. He'd killed him, almost annihilated him. "Staying?" he repeated, confused.

Iolaus dropped to one knee beside his friend, nodding as he answered, "Yeah…staying. As in never going back to the Other Side…that is, if it's alright with you."

Iolaus was staying with him? Not leaving…? The words burst through the numb horror, stripped away the fog of madness. Afraid to believe, but desperate that it be true, a shudder of hope swept through Hercules' body as he lifted tear-blurred eyes and turned to face the man he so longed to see, to hold in his life. Iolaus smiled gently at him and squeezed his shoulder again as he said quietly, reassuringly, "I'm not going to disappear, Herc…I'm not going anywhere."

Blind relief and hope flared in the demigod's eyes, then confusion washed over him again as he looked from the image of the man kneeling beside him, to the body still lying in his arms. "I don't…I don't understand…" he stammered, his grip on sanity still fragile. Looking back at Iolaus, he shook his head, "You're…you can't stay…gods, Iolaus…." But, his voice cracked, unable to continue. Iolaus was dead. The evidence was in his arms. "Hades will take you…bbback…" he finally managed to stammer, the pain of it in his voice and eyes, in the bleak, haggard expression on his face.

"Not this time," Iolaus said quietly, looking up past Hercules toward Persephone and Hades who had just appeared at her side. "Not this time."

Morrigan had gasped when Iolaus had first appeared, believing at first it was the specter of Dahok, then realizing quickly that of course it was the poor spirit of the warrior, come to say good-bye to his friend.

But, his words didn't make sense. What did he mean he wasn't going?

Nebula had heard the gasp, saw and heard Hercules speaking with Iolaus, but she couldn't see warrior's spirit. Not having the power of a god, she could not see a soul that had not manifested to her. But, she felt her heart twist, knowing he was there, and felt grief at not being able to see or touch him. "What's happening?" she murmured, her throat thick with sorrow.

"The spirit of Iolaus says he's not leaving…and Hades, is it? Well, he's just shown up and is standing by a weeping goddess, just over there," Morrigan whispered out of the corner of her mouth, then cut a quick look up at the Queen.

Nebula swallowed and shook her head, trying to take it in, knowing that something profound was happening. Something that did not truly concern them, and that they had no right to be intruding. She knew, better than Morrigan ever could, what these two heroes had meant to one another…and would always mean. She cocked her head back toward the glade where they'd rested earlier. With a quick look back at Hercules, seeing the way he regarded Iolaus, the flare of hope, and the way Iolaus looked at the god, with determined defiance to remain with his partner, Morrigan knew Nebula was right. Whatever was to be resolved here might effect the two of them, but was it was out of their hands. Nodding, she turned and followed Nebula back toward the trees.

Oblivious to the women, or the turmoil they were feeling, turning back to Hercules, Iolaus studied his friend, and realized Hercules was gripping his body as if he was never going to let it go, his knuckles white, his muscles rigid. The flicker of hope was fragile in the certainty of unendurable pain that shadowed the demigod's eyes. Hercules was just staring at him, confused, uncertain, lost in endless misery. With a shaft of fear, Iolaus realized the demigod had almost shut down on them, retreating into some terrible abyss of horror…he been pushed too far and they'd almost lost him! Gently, his voice strong and reassuring, Iolaus said, "You can let the body go, Herc…I'm not in there anymore."

The demigod was dazed, shocked by the horror of the day's events, still numb from having had to wield the knife, still reeling from the terror that even his friend's soul might be lost, and steeped in the despair of having borne unendurable loss for almost a year. He'd have fought, if there'd been a chance, fought Hades, made a bargain…but he had nothing to offer that Hades wanted. There was nothing…nothing he could do…that Iolaus could do. Sick with the realization that his flare of hope had no grounds, that Iolaus was dead, would remain dead, looking down at the body in his arms, Hercules found he was afraid to let go. Afraid that when he did, Iolaus would disappear. "I…can't…don't want…" he choked, shaking his head.

Squeezing Hercules' shoulder more firmly, knowing his grip was but a shadow of a mortal's touch, a compassionate sternness in his voice, Iolaus repeated, "Let it go…I don't need it, and neither do you. It's alright…everything's going to be alright. Trust me Herc."

'Trust me.'

The words echoed in the demigod's mind, words from the one being he had always trusted with his heart and his soul. Nodding a little, shaking with the effort, he laid the body on the ground and sat back on his heels. Afraid, taking a shuddering breath, he looked back at Iolaus and almost collapsed from the relief of seeing that he was still there. Swallowing, he took another shaky breath, pulling himself tentatively back from the brink of madness.

"That's it, easy, it's okay," Iolaus soothed. "You're going to be all right."

Not understanding, clinging to his trust in his best friend, Hercules looked from Iolaus to Hades and back again. "What's…what's going on?" he managed to ask, not sure he was ready for an answer that would shatter what was left of his soul. If Hades took Iolaus now…well, maybe he'd be merciful and take both of them.

Hades had been listening and watching silently, still unsettled by the feelings he'd experienced moments ago. This soul, this single most annoying soul, who caused more trouble than ten thousand souls, had come to represent the distilled essence of life in the god's mind. That infinite moment, when he'd known Iolaus was prepared to let go, to save his life, and when he'd decided that he would risk it all too, to save the courageous and selfless spirit, haunted him. In that moment, when he'd willed Iolaus to live, he'd meant it with every fiber of his being. In meaning it, he'd done something even he didn't understand, because it had never been done before.

He'd barred the gates to the Other Side to this soul.

Iolaus could never return to that realm.

But, nor was he alive in any traditional sense…he was still a spirit, a specter, a disembodied soul.

The God of the Underworld sighed as he struggled with how he was going to make his explanation…this body wouldn't do and he didn't have another one to offer. The body on the ground was beaten and bloodied, used up. If it had been left alone, lived an ordinary life, it might have lasted another fifty or sixty years. But, it had been dead for almost a year, held intact only by a force of unbounded evil…and it was corrupted by that evil. It could not be restored to what it had been, a vital, living man.

Hades knew that…and hearing Iolaus, he wondered if somehow that soul didn't know it, too. 'I don't need it any more…let it go', Iolaus said. Hades hoped he meant it. For once, the god felt at a loss, unsure of what to do, how to resolve this situation. So, still he waited…and watched. When Persephone laid a hand on his arm, turning to him as if to speak, he covered her hand with his own and shook his head, his gaze never wavering from the heroes.

"What's going on?" Hercules repeated, straightening his shoulders, needing an answer.

Iolaus stood and looked around at the beauty of the earth, it's greens and hues of gold and brown, at the sky, infinite in its blue immensity. He could smell the trees, and the clover growing around them in the meadow, feel the soft breath of wind on his face and the warmth of the sun. This was real…not the illusion of perfection in the Elysian Fields…this world was real. Turning back to Hercules, he replied clearly, firmly, "I'm not going back to the Other Side. This…this is what I want. The only 'Elysium' I want to know. I'm staying here."

Hercules both frowned and smiled tentatively at the same time, his expression mirroring the conflicting thoughts that were tumbling in his mind. Turning to Hades, expecting the god to whisk his best friend away, he appealed to his uncle that both he and Iolaus could have their fondest wish…that Iolaus would be allowed to live again. "You can't take him…not now…not after this. You have to restore him to his body…his life."

But, before Hades could reply, Iolaus cut back in, "I don't want it."

"What?" Hercules asked, struggling to focus, to understand.

"The body…I don't want it. I won't return to it," Iolaus replied, an expression of distaste, even disgust, crossing his face as he regarded the white-robed corpse on the ground.

"But…" Hercules tried to argue…how could Iolaus stay if he wouldn't go back into his body? The demigod frowned and shook his head, wondering if this was some kind of dream, or if he really had lost his mind and this was but an illusion of impossible hope. It all seemed fragmented…nothing made sense.

"And I'm not going back to the Other Side," Iolaus emphasized, shifting his gaze to Hades, his voice and eyes hard with stubborn determination, in case Hades didn't believe him.

"Alright," Hades replied mildly, surprising the heroes and his wife, who had all expected an argument. As he gazed at Iolaus, his expression veiled, he wondered if he should tell the warrior soul that he could not return to the Other Side, even if he wanted to…not now, not ever. Sighing, he supposed he was going to have to…though how he'd explain it was beyond him. He really didn't want to admit to anyone that he'd created the dilemma himself, however unintentionally.

"Alright?" Iolaus repeated, then grinned wildly. "ALRIGHT!" he shouted, punching a jubilant fist into the air.

Beginning to really believe that he'd somehow been granted a reprieve, that this was all real, not some delusion born of a broken spirit, Hercules smiled then, too, though not quite as jubilantly, not yet. Iolaus was still a ghost. Turning to Hades, he asked again, just to be sure, "So…this means you'll restore his body to life?"

Once again, before Hades could reply, Iolaus jumped in. "Herc, I told you I'm not going back into that thing!" he stated emphatically with an expression to match.

"'That thing'?" Hercules repeated, his voice rising in anger as he stood finally to face his best friend's ghost. Nobody used that tone about Iolaus…nobody, not even…Iolaus? What in Tartarus was going on? "That 'thing' is your body. A perfectly good body…one you used to be fairly satisfied with," Hercules protested. Shaking his head, trying to understand how Iolaus thought he could stay without his body, afraid his buddy's stubbornness could blow it all apart, he demanded, "Are you crazy? Do you think we can just go to the market and pick out another model? How are you going to stay if you don't have a body?"

"It's not my body, not any more. It's Dahok's body! Herc…I saw what those hands did, murdering innocent people…kids. I heard the lies that mouth told…to Nebula, you…the world, for pity's sake. And, that face…everyone who sees that face will see a monster, a demon of chaos and destruction…exactly what I see when I look at it," Iolaus replied, his voice tight with loathing. "How can I wear that thing again knowing all that, remembering all that? I hate it." He looked away, repulsed by the dead thing lying on the ground at Herc's feet. "I won't do it. I won't go back in there. Ever."

"Iolaus," Hercules began, trying for a reasonable tone, to calm his friend, but his buddy wasn't having any of it.

"NO!" Iolaus cut in, wheeling to face him. "NO! Hercules, do you really want to look at that…see the scar where you plunged in a knife to kill it every time you look at me? No…that body would haunt us worse than any ghost. Burn it."

The demigod shook his head, not sure what to do or say. He understood something of what Iolaus must be feeling, but like it or not, his buddy had to have a body. Biting his lip, he held out a hand for peace, a gesture to ask that he be heard, the silent plea forcing Iolaus to hold his tongue. "Okay…I hear you," Hercules began. "And…I know how hard it would be." When Iolaus' head reared back, and his lips opened to protest, Hercules immediately amended, a pleading tone echoing in his words. Gods, he couldn't lose Iolaus now…not when he'd begun to really believe his friend was not going to leave him. "Okay, I don't know…but Iolaus, spirits can't stay on this plane without a body."

"Sure they can," his friend replied, his voice uncompromising.

"Well, yeah, they can…but after three days, your choices are gone. You'd be trapped here," Hercules reminded him, the need to reason with Iolaus helping him to push his own still lingering horror further away.

"Hello, ghost to demigod, haven't you been listening? You call it being trapped. I call it being free. Listen, I've spent almost a year on the Other Side and I know that it's not where I ever want to be. Don't you understand? Gods, you really are a dumb demigod. Dammit, Herc…I am not going back there, not knowing what that costs yo…" but his voice cracked and he had to look away. Iolaus had heard the pain, the anguish and agony, suffered it along with Hercules for all of the days of the past months. He was not going to put his friend through that again, not going to be helpless to reach out, to be there, to listen, to watch and warn, to help where and when he could. Swallowing, he shook his head, regaining control. "Besides," he concluded, his voice husky, "it's dead dull over there. Nothing ever happens. There's no where to go. Think of it as being stuck in a small remote village…I've visited, seen the sights and don't need to see it again."

Hercules was stricken by his best friend's words. Iolaus was giving up any hope of an afterlife in the Elysian Fields to ease his pain, to make it easier for him. Anguish knifed through him, followed by a profound weariness. He wanted so much to accept, knowing the hopeless, endless emptiness he faced if he didn't, but he couldn't. So, it was hopeless after all. He'd been a fool to hope he'd really be able to have Iolaus back with him. He'd give anything, do anything…anything but cost Iolaus the whole of eternity.

Sighing, Hercules moved to stand beside his friend, to reach out to grip his shoulder, but his hand closed on nothing but a cool bit of air. Startled he pulled his hand back, awkwardly, not realizing he could only touch Iolaus on the Other Side, then shook his head, ignoring the moment for now, to say with heavy sorrow, "Iolaus…I can't tell you what it means that you'd do this for me. I…I'm sorry you had to know what I felt…that it hurt you so badly. But, it's too much, can't you see that? You give me too much."

Iolaus stood with his head down for a moment, his hands on his hips, then looked up, his eyes beseeching, his own voice now sounding lost, "Don't you want me to stay? I mean, I know there's Morrigan…but a few minutes ago, I heard…heard your sorrow. I thought you wanted me…"

"Of course, I want you back! Gods, I told you I'd do anything to get you back!" Hercules exclaimed, cut to the heart by the look in his friend's eyes, by the broken sound of his voice. "But…not at this cost to you. That's not fair to you. I can't ask that!"

Iolaus' face cleared as if the sun had come out and he smiled. "Well, then, there's no problem. I don't want to stay just for you, Herc…I want to stay for me, too," he replied. Then, sobering, looking away over the horizon, he continued more softly, "I felt every bit as lonely and lost…as helpless, as you did. I hated it there. Hated being trapped. You know I can't stand being in a place I can't get out of. It's not that it's a bad place…it just isn't here…isn't with you. This is where I want to be."

Hercules gazed down at his friend, a thoughtful, troubled look on his face, wishing he could touch him, his eyes full of feelings his throat was too tight to express. Uncertain, he turned back to Hades to ask, "And this is really alright with you? You're not going to just zap him away?"

Sighing, Hades moved forward to join them, leaving Persephone to watch with a puzzled frown, wondering why her husband was being so agreeable to giving up one of the souls he guarded so jealously.

Stepping away from Persephone, smoothing his hair with the flat of his hand as he moved forward to join them, Hades studied them both for a moment, then replied in the tone of one making a solemn judgment, "Iolaus has earned the right to this decision. He clearly understands that it means that he gives up the right to return to the Other Side within three days and remain on this plane forever. Accordingly," he continued, facing Iolaus, "from this day forward, the Gates to Elysium are barred to you."

"Thanks," Iolaus grinned cheekily, actually quite delighted. Hades gave him a thin smile, a nod and turned to go, relieved. No one need ever know that he'd broken through his cynical, cold heart to the extent that he'd unleashed a power even he had been unaware of…a call to life so profound that the individual concerned could never again walk the halls of death. It wouldn't do his image any good… and the next thing you knew, everyone would be hounding him to make them immortal. He really didn't need that kind of aggravation, so he was more than content to allow it all seem to be Iolaus' own decision.

But, he paused when Iolaus reached out to grip his arm. "Hades," he said, his voice full, his eyes burning with a gratitude Iolaus knew mere words could never convey, though they needed to be said. "I'd have been lost without your help, I know that. I have a forever that is worth experiencing because you saved me from oblivion by fighting Dahok for possession of my soul. I will never be able to thank you enough for that…or for what you almost…."

But, Hades cut him off at that point. With a quick look back over his shoulder at Persephone and a glance at Hercules, he hastily laid a hand on Iolaus' shoulder, interjecting, "No need for thanks, Iolaus. Hercules here asked me to help, if I could…and you deserved it. You deserved all of what I did in there. So, let's just leave it at that, shall we?"

Iolaus studied the god and though he didn't understand, he nodded and murmured again, "Thanks."

Watching, Hercules frowned as he wondered aloud, "How come you can touch him and I can't?"

"Perks of being a god, Hercules," Hades smirked, turning away to rejoin Persephone. Turning back to face them, he said, "I'd tell you both to stay out of trouble, but I'd be wasting my breath." With a sigh and sly smile, he added, "At least now I don't ever have to worry any more about putting up with a soul who is far more trouble than he's worth…I'm looking forward to the peace and quiet!" With a nod of his head to Iolaus, his eyes sparkling with a rare mirth, Hades took his wife by the arm and they vanished from sight.

Hercules turned back to Iolaus, a tentative smile playing on his lips, the shadows in his eyes retreating as he finally dared to accept that the miracle being offered, as he murmured, "So…you're back."

"Yep, such as I am, I'm back," Iolaus nodded with a grin.

"Iolaus…I'll take you any way I can get you…" Hercules replied, his voice tight, his eyes glistening in the sun. "I missed you," he murmured, the whole of his suffering for the past year in his look and voice, then the demigod cleared his throat, grinning a little lopsidedly as he continued, "And, like Hades…at least now, I don't have to worry about you getting killed again!"

A peal of laughter rang out across the meadow, as Iolaus replied, "No…that's one thing you won't have to worry about anymore."

Hercules looked back at the body that had walked beside him most of his life, saved his life more times than he could remember. Iolaus might see Dahok, and so might the rest of the world, but he only saw a loyal friend and he felt a pull on his heart, a tightness in his chest. "And…uh…you're sure about the body…not wanting it?"

"Oh yeah, trust me, I'm very sure," Iolaus replied. "I know it won't be the same but we'll work things out."

"Yeah…we'll work things out," the demigod echoed turning back to Iolaus, desperately glad to even have the chance to try.

Morrigan had been watching from the edge of the trees and had told Nebula the two gods had vanished, leaving Iolaus standing with Hercules. Curious, they advanced tentatively, hoping that their presence wouldn't be an intrusion.

Looking past Iolaus' shoulder, Hercules saw them coming. He hesitated a moment, not really feeling up to facing what had to come next, then waved them forward. "I guess this is where we start working things out," he murmured with a quick glance at Iolaus. "Nebula and Morrigan are about to join us. I think Morrigan may be able to see and hear you, she's also half god, but Nebula won't."

"Right," Iolaus replied, turning to face the women.

* * *

The three deities lounged in the comfortable ambience of Hades' private chambers, sipping at golden chalices of nectar-laced ambrosia.

"You surprised me," Hades observed. "I'd never have expected help from you."

The god shrugged under the scrutiny, more than a little surprised at himself. Drawling as if bored by the conversation, he replied, "Yeah, well, he was just so damned noble, you know? And Dahok was scum…invading our turf, daring to threaten that he'd go after us next. I decided that I'd be damned if I'd let him have even the sorry satisfaction of taking the runt with him. I just reacted…what can I say?"

"Uh huh," mused Hades, not really buying it…so he let the silence build. That might have been part of the reason, but he doubted it was all of it.

Made restless by Hades' steady scrutiny, the god rose and paced over to the sideboard to pour more of the libation into his goblet. When he turned, the others were still staring at him. "What?" he demanded.

"What's the rest of the story?" Hades inquired mildly, lifting a brow…and waiting. The third deity hid a smile in his goblet.

"The rest of the story?" the god rolled his eyes, and paced back to his chair, sitting in it with his elbows on his knees, his goblet held loosely in his hands. "Well…it was pretty clear that you'd decided to hold on regardless of the consequences. And, that's fine…wouldn't worry me a bit if you'd slipped into that vortex. Except, well, somebody's got to look after the place down here, keep the Elysian Fields in good repair, you know, for the souls who earn the right…." Clearing his throat, he decided this was getting out of hand and he was beginning to sound a like a sentimental fool, worrying about the souls of vanquished warriors. And, if he wasn't careful, Hades would realize his nephew had also found the unexpected nobility of the god's soul irresistible, in the moment when Hades committed himself to Iolaus, heedless of the possible cost, compelling Ares to intervene. Assuming a certain glowering air, he added, "And I figured this guy," nodding at Zeus, with a dramatic shudder, "would likely have stuck me with the job. So to protect myself, you understand, I figured I'd better save your sorry butt." He sat back with a satisfied look that said very clearly, 'And you owe me big time!'

The two older gods laughed out loud, Zeus shaking his head as he jeered, "Ares, you are such a fraud. You did this so that the souls of your soldiers would be taken care of properly…you figure you owe them that. It's that 'code of honour' thing that you rate so highly. And, maybe, just maybe, because it meant saving your uncle's life…keeping two noble souls from the vortex…souls you deemed worthy of rescue."

Hades smiled thinly as he teased sardonically, "What would people think of the big bad God of War actually caring for the souls of the fallen brave? But, don't worry, kid…the fact that you're a big softy is safe with us."

Ares looked like he might very well explode. "I'm a softy?" he growled in exclamation, greatly offended. "You're the one who was about to give up everything for that runt! What is it with that guy?"

"You know the answer to that as well as I do," Hades challenged back, all trace of humour gone. "Maybe even better…he's always been one of yours. But…in any case, I find myself in the unusual position of having to thank you. You saved us both in there. He knows it. I know it. You know it. Thank you, nephew. I do owe you a big one."

"Well, so long as that's clear," Ares allowed, settling back and looking greatly satisfied as he began to consider how he might one day collect on the debt. But, then he scowled again as he added, "He knows some god showed up to help…he doesn't know which one. If either of you ever tell the little runt or that goody two boots sorry excuse for a demigod, I'll deny every word. I know he's your favourite, Zeus, but I have to say we just don't get along. The last thing I want is them figuring that I'm the least bit interested in their affairs, except in so far as they conflict with mine."

Zeus chuckled again, unperturbed by his son's glowering expression, as he replied, "Well, yes, I've made no secret of my preferences, but today, I must admit, I might have to reconsider." Lifting his goblet in a salute to Ares, he continued, "You did good today, kid, arriving in the nick of time. Real good. I'm proud of you, son."

"Like that's supposed to impress me?" Ares replied, rolling his eyes, snorting with disdain. Briefly, though his eyes glinted sardonically, both amused and pleased in spite of himself, but then he hid his pleasure again as he taunted Hades with a wicked grin. "So…what are you going to do about this guy wandering around as a spirit? You know it'll drive them crazy and Hercules will be after you to do something about getting him a body again. Mortals and demigods…they have no sense of the bigger picture, no clue as to how the future will play out. The trouble they get into? Goldilocks will come apart with guilt the first time he can't actually step in and fight beside the muscle man. And Hercules? When he realizes how his little buddy can't enjoy all the good things in life anymore? You wait…he'll be yelling for intervention in no time."

Hades shrugged. "Not my problem," he stated flatly, sipping from his goblet. He was not going to confess that he had indeed created this situation and leave himself open to demands to do something similar for one favourite or another of these two reprobates. The secret was his alone and he knew the value of discretion.

Zeus sighed. Ares was right. It was only a matter of time. Shaking his head, he answered thoughtfully, "I'll have to think of something, I suppose. You've seen what Hercules was like this past year, moping around, inconsolable…well, it wore on me…I thought it would never end! Frankly, I don't think I can stand much more if he starts up with the guilt and fixates on the cost to Iolaus, regardless of what that spunky little warrior says. I suppose I'll have to figure out how to make him fully mortal again. Though, not for nothing…Hercules will have to earn it."

Hades nearly choked. Mortal wasn't nearly good enough…mortal could die and then his secret would be out. Affecting a stern demeanor, he turned to Zeus, "Well, you'd better come up with something good. Iolaus made his choice and I have accepted it. He is barred from my realm. An ordinary return to mortal life won't be good enough…keep that in mind."

"Hmm," Zeus mused as if thinking about it, but he leveled a meaningful look at his brother, gazing deep into the god's eyes. The message was clear…if Zeus needed help with this, he expected his brother to make himself useful. The God of the Underworld swallowed and looked down into his goblet. Hades had just realized that he might have thought he had a secret…but Zeus clearly knew what it was. Shrugging, he took another sip from his goblet.

He supposed a certain omnipotence was one of the perks of being the King of the Gods.


	2. A New Beginning

Chapter Two: A New Beginning

Iolaus turned to face the two women walking toward them, one a Celtic Druid of Justice, a woman he'd wondered a lot about, wondered if she was Hercules' new partner. Morrigan, a demigod in her own right, someone who had to be important to Herc. How important, he didn't know. They hadn't talked about it…not yet anyway.

The other woman, Queen of Sumeria and former pirate, Nebula…the woman he'd loved and died to save and, in dying had unleashed an unfathomable evil upon the world while he spent almost a year in his own personal hell.

Morrigan, never shy, marched straight up to him, looking him up and down with one brow quirked in curiosity. "So…you'll be the famous, Iolaus. I've heard a lot about you from these two and I'm pleased to be able to make your acquaintance." She held out a hand instinctively to grip his arm, then realized it was foolish…though she could see him, and he was real enough, in some ways, he was also an illusion.

Iolaus saw the gesture and cocked his head a little, uncomfortable as well, but then he conjured up a grin and nodded, as he replied, "I'm glad to meet you, too, Morrigan. I…well, you helped Hercules when he needed someone most and I'm grateful to you."

Hercules shifted a little at the unexpected comment wondering how much Iolaus knew about his relationship with Morrigan, wondering how he knew, while the Druid looked surprised, then pleased. Nebula was fast finding it all very frustrating. She stared at the place where it seemed Iolaus must be, and she knew he was speaking by the way the other two listened, but she could hear nothing. Iolaus saw the tight expression on her face, her discomfort, and murmured, "Herc…tell Nebula I'm sorry that she can't see or hear what's going on right now."

Hercules looked from Iolaus to Nebula, and relayed the message. She floundered a bit, her arms a little wide and almost helpless, a gesture that few ever saw in her presence. "It's just that I don't know what's going on. Iolaus…damn I wish I could see you! I wanted to tell you, wanted you to know…I'm sorry. Sorry about everything."

Iolaus swallowed and looked away, emotions surging within him, frustrated and angry that he couldn't answer her directly, that what needed to be said between them had to be relayed through others. He didn't realize what was happening until she gasped, and his eyes sought hers, and found them looking straight into his. Her hand had come up to her mouth and there were tears in her eyes…so much there she wanted to say.

Understanding now, given the experience of traveling with Timeron, a young ghost with unfinished business with Sisyphus, Iolaus gave her a wry smile as he observed, "Guess you can see me now, huh?"

When she nodded, speechless, he moved toward her, cocking his head to the side, as he suggested, "Walk with me?"

Hercules and Morrigan watched them walk a little away, the Druid biting her lip. Turning to Hercules, she said, "I think, maybe, you and I also have some things we need to be saying."

* * *

"What's going on, Iolaus?" Nebula asked, her voice low, as she gazed at him with wonder and trepidation.

Iolaus looked at her as he answered, "I've decided not to go back to the Other Side, and Hades has agreed to let me remain here. I…well, I know Herc needs me and, frankly, I need to be with him."

Swallowing, she nodded a little and looked away. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "This should never have happened to you."

He reached out unconsciously, then let his hand fall, useless and helpless, to his side. Speaking with a low, intense tone, he replied, "Nebula…there isn't anything for you to be sorry about. You were a victim of Dahok every bit as much as I was. I'm not sorry I chose to save your life. I loved you…you know that. Part of me still does."

Tilting her head up to give him a sideways glance, she licked her lips and sighed. "I love you, too, Goldilocks. And I miss you. But…I knew even before…well, I knew you belonged at his side. Your heart…your life, would never have been with me in Sumeria."

Iolaus looked away, nodding, acknowledging the truth of that, though he'd felt confused at the time. "I guess I just can't see myself as a King," he quipped back with a slow grin.

"Well, 'King Monkeyboy' does have an odd ring to it," she joked back, then had to bite off a sob. Turning to him, she said simply, "You would have been a magnificent king…but that was never the point. Never will be, I guess. But…how will you manage like this? Invisible most of the time?"

Iolaus chuckled ruefully as he answered, "Hey, I felt invisible most of the time even before this happened!" But, sighing, he continued, his shadowed eyes revealing his own uncertainty, "To be honest…I don't know. But, I do know we'll find a way to work it out. We always do."

"If there's ever any thing I can do to help…you know I will," she vowed, then whispered again. "I love you." But, knowing there was nothing either of them could say to make this any easier, she raised her chin, every inch the regal queen. "It's time I sailed back home. My people need me."

"I know," Iolaus replied, softly. "Thank you for coming here, to help Hercules fight Dahok. I know…I know how terrible it was for you. That facing him couldn't have been easy. You're a brave woman, Nebula. Your people are lucky to have you for their Queen."

She bit her lip and looked away, wanting nothing so much as to grab hold of him and never let go. But it wasn't to be, wasn't possible in any way. Looking back to where Hercules and Morrigan were talking, she knew she couldn't stand a protracted farewell. Best just to be gone. "Will you tell the big guy I'll always have room for the two of you in the palace if you ever come back to Sumeria?"

"I will," Iolaus replied, smiling softly, deciding this wasn't the time to point out he didn't take up much space…or that neither of them would never, ever want to return there. "Be well, Nebula."

She lifted her arms helplessly, signaling her desire to hug him and he nodded, understanding. She gazed at him a moment longer, noticing he was already beginning to fade, tears in her eyes, then nodded and strode away.

* * *

"I'm thinking that since you got your Iolaus back, you won't be needin' another partner, Hercules," Morrigan began briskly, looking him straight in the eye.

"Morrigan, I…" he began, feeling helpless, hardly able to deal with this after the last harrowing hour, knowing this wasn't fair to her, but also knowing she was right.

But, she cut him off. "And I'm guessin' you won't be coming back with me to Eire," she continued, wanting this done, like lancing a painful wound. Best to just get it over, quick and clean.

Hercules looked away, then back at her, lifting his hands to rest them on her shoulders, as he answered, sincerity ringing in his voice, "Thank you for coming here with me, to fight Dahok. And…thank you for so much more. You helped me start to find myself again…gave me reason to keep going on. But…you're right. Iolaus is a part of me and the two of us belong in Greece."

She tightened her jaw and nodded. The Druid of Justice didn't cry…got mad maybe, but didn't cry. Taking a deep breath, she finished it. "Well…I'll be goin' then. I have responsibilities to my own people, as you do to yours. Be well, Hercules…and know that Eire will always remember you."

She made to pull away, but he tugged her close, hugging her gently as he rested his lips on her forehead for a moment in a gesture of remembered tenderness. Pulling back, his voice husky, he murmured, "And you, Morrigan…you be safe. I will never forget you."

She nodded tightly, then pulled away, a determined, forthright, fiery force for Justice, blinking rapidly but her head up as she marched away toward the port at Corinth.

* * *

Iolaus turned back after Nebula had disappeared into the forest, heading toward her ship at Napthlion, and saw Morrigan striding off the other way, over the rolling plain toward Corinth. Hercules turned to face him and they regarded one another silently for a moment, suddenly awkward. Iolaus rubbed the back of his neck then moved to join his partner. "So, you want to head anywhere in particular?" he asked.

Hercules shrugged as he looked around. The day was ending and they'd not get far before sunset. "Tomorrow will be soon enough," he replied as he gazed back at Iolaus, marveling that he had his partner back, still hardly able to grasp it. "There's a clearing over there, a stream nearby. We could stay there tonight and head out in the morning."

Iolaus nodded, looking past Hercules, a sober expression on his face. "There's something you have to do before we go," he said, tilting his head toward the object of his attention.

Hercules half turned and froze, swallowed hard, and then nodded. "I'll take care of it," he answered, his voice tight, his face turned away. In a daze, he headed toward the forest to gather dry wood with which to build a pyre…and wondered how he could ever bring himself to strike the flame.

Iolaus got his first taste of feeling useless as he stood by and watched his friend pile wood over the body. Hercules was moving stiffly, as if holding himself under rigid control. Finally, he'd stacked enough and knelt to spark a flame on the kindling at the base of the funeral pyre. He hesitated for a long moment, then his shoulders again tightened and he clashed his gauntlets together, creating the essential spark. When it caught, the demigod stood back a step, his back toward Iolaus, his arms crossed tightly while he silently watched the flames lick at the wood, catch and burst into a bright, hot fire.

When the warrior soul saw the demigod's head bow, and his shoulders tremble, he moved forward to stand beside his friend, his eyes on the now raging fire. "Are you alright?" he asked quietly.

Hercules turned his head a little away, his jaw rigid as he swallowed hard, trying to maintain some vestige of control. Unable to speak, he shook his head, feeling the tremble of grief sweep up through his chest.

"I'm sorry, Herc…I know this is hard on you. But I just couldn't…" Iolaus murmured, his voice fading away.

"I know," Hercules choked out, his voice barely a broken whisper. "And…it's crazy I guess…you're here. But…." What could he say? That it was killing him to burn the body that had fought beside him, reminded him how to laugh when he'd forgotten how…that had bounded across hills toward danger, just to back him up, that had shown him how to hunt…that had been his constant companion and best loved friend for the whole of his life. He knew it didn't make any sense, that it was ridiculous, and he wanted to respect Iolaus' decision. But he felt such an overwhelming loss that he could hardly breathe.

"Come on…let's go make camp," Iolaus suggested, with a quick, sidelong look up into his friend's face, wincing at the tears that glittered in Hercules' eyes, and the track of one which had escaped to slip down his cheek. "That's not me, Herc…that's just an empty, used up shell. Let it go."

Gripping Hercules' arm for a moment, his touch cool and feathery, he turned and headed across the meadow toward the trees, relieved when after only a brief hesitation Herc turned and followed him.

Not long after, Iolaus sat on a log by the campfire Hercules had laid out, waiting for his friend to come back from gathering something for his dinner. Looking back toward the now smoldering pyre, he wondered if he'd made a mistake. Wondered if he should have swallowed his revulsion and made do…but he knew it would have been too much. To look at those hands, knowing what they had done. To have walked around in the body of a demon…the thought of it made him sick.

But, he too mourned the loss of what he'd once been. Strong. Capable. Gods, today he hadn't even been able to touch a woman he loved, let alone his grieving friend. Sighing, he looked around their spartan camp, wishing he was out there hunting…not just sitting here. Chewing on his inner lip, he stared at a leaf on a nearby bush and narrowed his eyes. 'Might as well learn what I can do,' he thought, concentrating on the leaf, frowning with effort, cursing softly when it barely moved at all.

"Something wrong?" Hercules asked, coming to sit by the fire, his back to the smoking ashes behind them, trying for normalcy. Iolaus jumped with a muttered oath…he'd been so focused on the leaf he hadn't heard Hercules returning. Frowning now, Herc asked again, "What is it?"

Iolaus rolled his eyes as he waved toward the bush. "Just checking out my repertoire of tricks," he said sarcastically. When Herc looked confused, he added, miserably, "I was trying to move the damned leaf, and not doing very well I might add."

"Oh," Hercules replied, his eyes straying to the leaf in question. "Well, it looks mean and stubborn. A little like someone I know." A shadow of grin played around his lips as he bit into an apple.

Iolaus cut a scathing look at him, then sighed and grinned a little as he shook his head. "Sorry…I'm just having a little trouble adjusting."

"Give yourself a bit of time, Iolaus," Hercules encouraged. "You've only been back, what, less than a day. You'll figure it out."

Uncertain, Iolaus searched his friend's eyes, as he asked, "Was I wrong? Did I make a really big mistake refusing to go back into that…"

All expression bleached from Hercules' face as he looked down…but then shook his head. Iolaus couldn't even refer to his old body without a tone of revulsion. He could never have been comfortable inside it again. "No," the demigod assured him quietly, looking back up at his best friend. "No. It was hard for me to…and getting used to this will take us both some time. But, I thought about it, when I was looking for something to eat, and I realized you'd made the only decision you could live with. The important thing, the only thing that really matters to me is that you are here."

When Iolaus looked away, wondering what good he'd be, Hercules continued as if reading his mind, almost babbling with awkward reassurance, "Besides, there are some advantages this way. I get to sleep all night since you'll be standing watch…I assume you don't need to sleep? And, if we aren't constantly having to stop someplace to find food for you, we'll be able to travel a lot faster…."

Iolaus chuckled softly as he caught the teasing glint in his friend's eyes. Rolling his own, he replied with a long-suffering look, "You're right…you'll be able to get your beauty sleep." But, he didn't mention the crack about eating…he didn't want to risk revealing how much he wished he could enjoy one of those apples Herc had carried back to the camp.

Eating was going to be one more thing that he was going to remember that he missed, now that he was back.

* * *

Hercules moaned in his sleep that night, tears slipping unconsciously down his face. Iolaus watched, but didn't wake him. The guy had a right to the privacy of a few bad dreams. When Herc settled into an easier sleep not long after, the warrior soul relaxed and looked up, admiring the clear night sky, the glittering stars and the incredible moon that seemed to smile down upon them.

A few minutes later, he went back to working on the leaf.

* * *

They started out early the next day, while the morning was still new, the light gentle on the hills and the air soft, with just the hint of a breeze. They'd decided to head first to Corinth, to see Iphicles, and then up to Thebes, to let Jason know all that had happened. Despite his misgivings of the evening before, Iolaus was almost rapturous with pleasure at being back in the world. Striding along, a step and a half ahead of Hercules, as usual, he eagerly took in everything around him, stopping every once in a while just to admire a view he'd seen a thousand times before. Whistling as he went along, he'd toss the occasional observation or question back to his buddy and would throw a look over his shoulder every once in a while, touched by the grin that seemed to have settled permanently on Hercules' face as he watched his best friend enjoying himself.

They encountered other travelers that day, lots of them. People who had been driven from their homes in fear of the demon marching toward them, farmers who'd been afraid of seeing their fields destroyed, soldiers on patrol, merchants drawing wagons of goods for trading…and all recognized Hercules, stopping, wanting to thank him.

"You saved us, Hercules, no doubt about it, killing that terrible demon. We'll never be able to thank you enough," affirmed a sturdy farmer, pushing a handcart of produce to the market. The lean, weathered man regarded the demigod with a kind of awe.

Awkward, not wanting praise for what he'd done, uncomfortable with being heralded as the sole hero of the encounter, Hercules glanced at Iolaus as he replied for the first time that day…but not the last, "Thank you…but, I didn't do it alone. My partner, Iolaus, came back from the Other Side to attack Dahok. He's the one who deserves the real credit."

Iolaus grinned a little and shook his head, one brow cocked as he waited for the farmer's reply. "Your partner? Oh, the man whose body the demon took. Came back did he? Well, good for him. He'll rest easier now, I've no doubt."

Hercules was about to explain when Iolaus cut in with a voice the farmer couldn't hear, "Leave it, Herc. You'll only confuse him and probably scare him silly to think there's a ghost stalking the land." It had gone like this all morning and into the afternoon. 'Iolaus who?', 'Partner?', 'Yes, well…I'm glad if he helped a little…'. At first Iolaus had been amused, thinking he'd often felt invisible but this was something else. But, as the day had worn on, amusement had faded to patience. And those had been only the pleasant comments.

There'd been others that showed lots of folks blamed him for having let Dahok loose in the world…hated him for the loved ones they'd lost to the demon. At those times, he turned away, only to have to turn back and pull Hercules away from lengthy explanations and angry defenses that it hadn't been Iolaus' fault. That he'd defeated Dahok…forced him out of his body. Those folks hadn't wanted to listen, didn't care, their own loss too great. On one occasion, Iolaus thought Hercules was really going to lose it, as he raged at a tinker who'd slandered Iolaus' memory, his courage and what he'd given to save the world for Dahok, disparaging, not believing. Hercules had gone bone white, his eyes thunderous but the idiot wouldn't back down…the gods know why. When Iolaus saw his friend's fists clench, his muscles bulge dangerously, he knew he had to stop it. Calling out to the demigod didn't work, and finally he had had to walk right through the guy that Herc was nose to nose with, shouting almost incoherently about the cost Iolaus had paid, startling his partner, shocking him actually, to get his attention and draw him away.

"I'm sorry," Hercules had murmured that time once he'd regained his control.

"Just be glad they can't see me or they'd be throwing rocks." Iolaus had waved off the apology, his tone wry, but he'd kept his face turned away so that Hercules couldn't see his expression. Anger. Guilt. Profound regret. Frustration. All of those emotions and more kept roiling around inside of him. And worry about Hercules who was clearly still wracked by grief and fury.

It definitely took the edge off what had started out to be such a perfect day.

That night, Hercules was tormented by a hideous nightmare. Fragmented images of Iolaus being killed, of killing him, plunging the knife into his chest, of chasing through forests, trying to find him, of shrieking out in horror, knowing he was gone…flickering moments of overpowering loss and grief…of guilt and fury. He thrashed in his sleep, crying out…tears on his cheeks.

"WAKE UP, HERC!" Iolaus called again, ineffectually trying to shake his partner awake, to free him from whatever was tormenting him. This nightmare was going on 'way too long. "Dammit! WAKE UP!"

Hercules twitched and went still, groggy, "Wwwha'?" Seeing Iolaus, the terrible images still etched in his mind, he blanched, then his eyes lit with hope as he whispered, "Iolaus?"

"Easy, I'm here…you were having a doozie of a nightmare," Iolaus explained quietly. "You okay?"

Recollecting himself, Hercules blinked, and muttered, "Yeah…." Forcing himself up onto his elbows, then shoving himself up to sit with one hand rubbing his forehead, he muttered, "Sorry…"

"Well, it's not like you woke me up," Iolaus replied, frowning as he studied the trembling demigod. Hercules shook his head as if trying to clear away the images that still haunted him, and wiped his cheek, looking dazedly at his damp fingers. "Want to tell me about it?" the warrior soul offered, concerned.

Cutting his partner a quick look, then shifting his eyes to the dying fire, Hercules shook his head. "No…no, I don't think so. It's…I'm alright," he replied, lying but really not wanting to talk about it.

"Sure you are," Iolaus replied, his voice dry. But, there was no pushing Hercules if he didn't want to talk. "Go back to sleep…it's a few more hours before dawn."

Nodding, Hercules laid down, one arm over his eyes. "Don't worry," he murmured as he drifted back to sleep. "I'm fine."

Raking fingers through his hair, Iolaus studied his friend, his face lined with worry. "No…you're not," he whispered into the darkness. "Not yet, anyway."

Sighing, Iolaus went back to working on his kinetic power. He'd gotten quite good at pushing leaves around and had worked up to trying to levitate small sticks and then holding them in the air.

* * *

The next day, avoiding the roads and more well traveled trails, they strode across fields, along the edge of a meadow and into the forest, still bearing north toward Corinth. They passed fewer people, but still encountered some of the local people, a young woman gathering wild herbs, a hunter with a brace of pheasant, his bow slung over his shoulder, and both recognized Hercules, both almost inarticulate in their shy but heartfelt gratitude for what he'd done. Iolaus shook his head in weary amusement of Hercules' still evident discomfort at getting all the credit, while Hercules barely nodded, as he acknowledged their thanks and moved on.

Deeper into the forest, along a rutted trail, they came across a wood-cutter, just finished with filling his wagon with his harvest. "By Zeus!" he exclaimed, looking up at the tall man striding toward him, the light slanting through the trees illuminating his features. "Why, bless me, it's Hercules!"

The demigod nodded pleasantly as he approached, while the burly, middle-aged man waited for him, then reached out to grab his arm, his face almost fierce and his voice husky, as he said, "I he'rd what you done, below Mycenae. T'was a miracle, saving us from that unholy monster. I thank ye, Hercules."

Embarrassed, Hercules nodded, tired of forever hearing the thanks heaped upon him, no one understanding what his partner had risked…and lost. "I didn't do it alone," he replied, seeing Iolaus' head flash up at his words, his buddy rolling his eyes and throwing up his hands in a pantomime of amused disbelief that Hercules insisted on persisting with explanations no one wanted to hear. "My partner, Iolaus…."

"That bastard!" snarled the wood-cutter, spitting onto the ground. "Betrayed ye, betrayed us all, he did. Joining with that evil demon…."

Hercules' eyes widened at the bitter venom of the stranger's voice, only too aware of the look of stricken pain that knifed across Iolaus' face, as he hastily countered, "Wait…you don't understand…"

"Aye, I unnerstand," the man raged, tears in his eyes. "Too well. The beast burned our village, killed my whole family…my brother, gods, his eyes melted in his head, and then he was nought but a pool of steamy oil at my feet. Just because he dared say 'no' to Dahok. No. He would not kneel to the monster, so pure in his white robe…so arrogant and cruel. Aye, I unnerstand. Too well." His voice cracked then, and he turned away, gruffly brushing at his eyes as he climbed up into the wagon and flicked the reins. "Yer 'partner' betrayed us all when he chose the evil of power, and I'm sorry for ye. Gods keep you, lad."

The wagon lumbered away down the trail, leaving Hercules breathing hard, feeling sick as he turned to Iolaus. He'd wanted to protest, wanted to rage that the man didn't understand, could never begin to understand what Iolaus had sacrificed to defeat Dahok…but he couldn't. In the face of that haunting misery, his own rage had faltered. Then, the demigod's face creased with sorrow, when he saw his partner had turned away, his arms tightly crossed and his head down, trembling with guilt and horror. Moving to stand beside him, Hercules lifted a hand, as if to comfort him with his touch, but then helplessly, his throat thick, he let his arm fall to his side.

"Iolaus?" he murmured, but his partner just shook his head and moved a little away, to stand alone. If he'd been mortal, he'd have been violently ill, on his knees to rid himself of the roiling disgust and sick loathing, the guilt and immeasurable grief that raged through him for what that man had suffered. But, he was not mortal…so he could only endure.

Hercules' eyes swept the forest, not knowing what to say, how to alleviate his best friend's suffering, how to make him understand that none of that had ever been his fault, his responsibility. His eyes lighting on a massive fallen oak, he said quietly, his voice low and husky with emotion, "Iolaus…when an strong oak falls, bitten to the heart by a sharp blade it can't resist…and it's hauled away, to be the fuel to burn a town, or a dam across a river to flood out fields and villages…or shaped into a ram, to batter down a city's walls …it's not the tree's fault."

Iolaus pressed his eyes closed, his lips compressed against the desire to scream out his fury and regret, but as he heard Hercules' voice again, strong, compelling, "None of that was your fault!", his trembling eased, and his muscles gradually relaxed. Finally, he turned and wordlessly gazed back at his friend, his eyes full of gratitude for the understanding, and the affirmation of his innocence. But, his eyes darkened again at the shadows of grief and guilt that still haunted the eyes that gazed back at him. Quietly, with sharp insight he murmured, "It's not the axe's fault either, Herc."

Then, he turned and continued through the forest. Hercules blew out a long shuddering sigh, understanding now why Iolaus could not return to that body, his heart aching for the terrible burden his friend bore. But for the first time, a little of his own hidden horror at having driven that blade at such terrible risk deep into his best friend's body, eased.

* * *

They made it to Corinth later that afternoon.

"Hercules!" Iphicles greeted his brother warmly, rising from behind his desk to move around and hug the demigod, a warmth of welcome that was unusual. "I heard what happened below Mycenae…and you were just in time. Those horrors were about to storm our gates. Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Hercules replied, but his gaze shifted away, as if he was looking at something his brother couldn't see. "Iphicles…you don't know the whole story."

"I'm sure I don't," acknowledged the King, concerned that Hercules seemed so weary. "Come with me, we'll go to my quarters, order a flask of wine, and you can tell me all about it."

Not long after, they were settled by a small fire, pewter goblets of red wine in their hands. Iphicles leaned forward, encouraging, "So…tell me. What happened out there?"

Hercules looked down into his goblet for a moment, then across the room, a smile playing across his lips. Turning to Iphicles, he said quietly, "Iolaus is here, Iph…just over there, in that chair."

The King stiffened, gazing reflexively at the indicated chair, his eyes flashing back to Hercules when he saw it was empty, a concerned frown darkening his visage. He wondered if his brother had finally lost his grip. Though he'd seen Hercules only once since the demigod had returned to Greece, on the trail of the demon, it had been long enough for Iphicles to learn that Iolaus had been killed almost a year before in Sumeria. The demigod had been in bad shape, barely holding himself together. Knowing what Iolaus had meant to his brother, Iphicles had been amazed Hercules had been functioning at all.

Understanding the look of concern, Hercules grinned more broadly. "Don't worry…I haven't lost my senses. Iolaus helped me defeat Dahok, going back into his body to distract him, fight him, giving me time to stab him with the hind blood. When it was over, Iolaus refused to go back to the Other Side and Hades agreed he'd earned the right to stay. So…he's back. And, he says, 'hi!'.

His brows lifting, his expression quizzical, Iphicles again turned to the empty chair. Raising his goblet to the soul he couldn't see, Iph nodded and smiled tentatively. He'd heard crazier stories in his time, and with these two, you never knew what might happen next. But…a ghost? Clearing his throat, he said as normally as he could manage, "Well, uh…welcome, Iolaus. I…it's truly wonderful to have you back. The gods know, Hercules was lost without you. But…if it's not rude to ask…why didn't you bring your body with you?"

Hercules choked on the wine he'd just swallowed, then brushed the back of his hand across his mouth. "That's…a long story," he rasped.

Taking his time, keeping it as simple as possible, one eye on Iolaus to ensure he wasn't telling anything his buddy didn't want shared, Hercules told his brother why his best friend had chosen to leave his body behind. Iphicles listened, casting an unreadable glance from time to time to the 'empty chair', especially when Hercules seemed to be checking or listening to something Iolaus wanted to add. It was frustrating… and it hurt. Though they'd had difficult times, largely Iphicles acknowledged to himself because of his own insecurities, Iolaus had always stood by him when it mattered, even at the risk of his own life…even against old friends and comrades. Over the years, he'd come to think of Iolaus as a second brother, someone to count on, to know would always be there, someone to respect… and to love for all the enthusiasm, laughter and sheer decency that the warrior brought into the world.

When Hercules had finished his difficult recounting of events, Iphicles nodded once somberly, ducking his head to take a sip of wine. There was a long silence, then Iphicles looked up and back at the empty chair, tears in his eyes, as he said, "I'm sorry, I can't seem to find the words…." His voice cracked and he swallowed, trying for control. Sniffing a little, blinking, he sighed and continued, "When Hercules told me you'd been killed, I felt as though part of my world had died…I guess because it had. I've missed you, missed knowing you were in the world, somewhere, backing this big lug up when he bit off more than he could chew. I'm…I'm glad you found a way back. But…I'm also selfish enough to be sorry I can't see or hear you. And…," he sighed again, shaking his head, still not able to find the words that could convey all that he felt, "you deserve so much more than to be locked in the shadow of silence. I can't imagine how hard this must be for you…I wish so much that there was something I could do…." When his voice cracked again, he looked away, down toward the fire in the grate. When he felt a cool touch on his shoulder, understanding, he reached up to lay a hand over the place, nodding a little in acknowledgement but unable to speak.

Hercules had to clear his own throat, before he said, "Iolaus says not to feel so bad, 'cause it could have been a lot worse!" Despite himself, Hercules chuckled a little, conveying some of the wry warmth Iolaus had put into his words and expression. "He also says, 'thank you'…and, he'd like to point out, it's probably time to eat."

Iphicles laughed even as the tears still glittered in his eyes, nodding again as he looked up to the empty space beside him and then to Hercules. "He's right. C'mon…let's see what the kitchen has prepared."

Over dinner, Iolaus sat and watched the two brothers, at first trying to participate as best he could, appreciating that Iphicles tried so hard to include someone he could neither see nor hear. But, after a while, as they fell to reminiscing, he leaned back against the chair, careful not to slip right through it. Though he didn't feel hunger for the sake of nourishment, as he watched them enjoy the warm red wine and the meal the kitchen had sent up, and listened to stories he'd couldn't contribute to, he began to hunger almost desperately for the sensations of life. Taste and touch, speech…simple things, things he'd always taken for granted. Keeping the aching need from his face, he concentrated on other things. Like moving the salt cellar, and feeling both embarrassment and a thrill of pleasure when it slid along the table, startling the servants.

Iph and Hercules had laughed and even congratulated him on the progress he was making in developing his capacity to impact on the world, but the servants were nervous. At first, they'd thought the King and his brother had taken leave of their senses, talking to an empty chair, which was bad enough. But now they did believe a ghost was in the lofty dining hall, and that was a whole lot worse. Though they'd known Iolaus, the idea of a ghost, even a friendly one, woke all their superstitious biases. It wasn't natural for a soul to walk the earth…and it was very frightening. The two brothers didn't notice the reactions of the silent servers, but Iolaus, having nothing else to do but observe, saw fearful glances and regretted them.

Monster…ghost…either way, he seemed destined to frightened and alienate the living mortals around him.

When the evening drew to a close, and the others went to bed, Iolaus climbed up to the ramparts to study the stars and to think. He was where he wanted to be, back in the living world. And, he was glad he was back, had no inclination to regret the decisions he'd taken.

But, he hadn't known it would be so hard to be surrounded by life and not be able to be a part of it.

The next morning, Iphicles watched Hercules amble off through the wide arch to the marketplace beyond the palace grounds, trying to picture Iolaus striding along beside his brother. Sighing, he felt deeply sad. Though Hercules had been better last night than the last time they'd seen one another, and he'd seemed happy enough to have Iolaus back, even if not the way he'd been, Iph had caught the haunted shadows that passed through the demigod's eyes whenever he was turned away from the chair in which Iolaus supposedly sat.

'Damn it," Iphicles thought, sorrowed by the cost Iolaus had had to pay, what with dying and now being left to wander the earth as a shade…and worried about his brother. Hercules was putting on a good show, but he was obviously far from the relaxed and confident man he'd been before all this started. Last night, Hercules had assured him that the two of them would work out the kinks of the new situation…but Iphicles suspected it would be far from easy.

Sighing, he turned back into his castle. 'They'll work it out,' he consoled himself. Shaking his head, he realized they hadn't much choice.

* * *

Once they'd crossed the isthmus into the mainland, they ran into fewer people who had a personal awareness of the depredations of Dahok, and relaxed a little when encountering strangers. Iolaus had gone back to whistling or chattering aimlessly as they ambled along, determined to enjoy what he did have. Herc could hear him, he consoled himself, and see him and when it was just the two of them, he could forget the rest of it.

Passing through a village sometime after the sun had reached its zenith, Hercules decided to stop in at the tavern for something to eat, and a mug of ale. Heading to the bar, the demigod hailed the taverner as he scanned the chalked board of the daily fare. "An ale, and a bowl of the stew with some bread and, ah…" he ordered then unconsciously turned to Iolaus, not thinking, to see what his partner wanted, but froze when Iolaus just looked at him with brows raised in amusement and shook his head. "Ah…I guess that'll be all, thanks," he finished awkwardly, fishing in the pouch on his belt for the coins to pay for the fare.

The bartender looked at him a little oddly, but nodded pleasantly enough. Passing Hercules a clay mug of ale, he said he'd bring the food to the table. The two travelers turned and noticed the small establishment was still quite busy, and chose a table in the back, taking a seat on the benches that ran along either side of the rough plank table. Iolaus leaned forward, grinning teasingly at his buddy across the table. "You're going to have to remember that I don't get as hungry as I used to," he chuckled.

Hercules nodded, chagrined, as he replied good-naturedly. "I know…I guess I just forget sometimes."

Waving off the explanation, Iolaus replied, "Yeah, so do I…don't worry about it."

Hercules had just begun to eat when more customers came in, and moved to the only seats that were still available. "Don't mind sharing, do you?" one husky man said in passing, as he and his comrades slid into the empty places.

"Whoa! Do you mind?" Iolaus laughed as the heavy-set man sat down on top of him. Hercules choked as Iolaus scrambled out of the way, moving through and out of the man to stand giggling at the side of the table. The newcomer looked a little disconcerted at the odd feeling he'd just experienced, but shrugged and went back to the conversation with his friends.

Hercules looked from Iolaus to the stranger, and almost offered a protest that his friend had been sitting there. But Iolaus could see it coming and laughing even harder, he advised, "Don't do it, Herc…they'll haul you off to the local lock-up in case you're dangerous as well as crazy!"

Hercules found himself with his mouth open. If he answered…Iolaus was right. They'd all think he was crazy. He cast a look of frustrated helplessness at his buddy, looked down at his stew and, after toying with it for a bit, decided he wasn't really hungry anymore. One long swallow of ale, and he stood, ready to go. He'd thought being in taverns before had been difficult, always imagining he was hearing Iolaus' laugh or good-humoured shout, knowing it was impossible, that Iolaus was gone. But, this was even more disconcerting. To have his friend there, to not be able to talk to him or acknowledge his presence was unsettling in the extreme. Shaking his head as he led the way back onto the street, he realized he was going to have to think of a way to deal with this…or give up eating in taverns.

As they headed out of the village, back into the countryside, the demigod was thinking about how difficult this must be for Iolaus. He'd caught his friend's wistful look at the pretty serving wench, and he hadn't missed the look of longing in Iolaus' eyes before he'd quickly hidden it last night at dinner. Iolaus loved the sensuous pleasures of life…eating, drinking, flirting with the hope of more, and telling tall tales to amuse the locals whenever they'd stopped for a brief respite from the road. This had to be driving him crazy, much as he was pretending to only find it all outrageously funny.

Finally, as the afternoon began to wane, Hercules decided he had to ask…had to know if Iolaus regretted his decision. There might still be time to change his mind. Clearing his throat, feeling a hollow emptiness at what he was about to suggest, he waited until his buddy had stopped his latest stream of chatter and offered quietly, "Iolaus…it might not be too late."

Caught by the tone, the warrior soul turned with a puzzled look at the sun and then back to his friend. "Too late for what?"

Hercules looked away. "I know Hades said the gates were barred to you," he explained, his voice strained, "but…this is still only the third day since you left the Other Side. If you asked, he might let you back into the Elysian Fields…."

"What?" Iolaus squeaked, startled, wondering where this had come from. His face creased as he concentrated, then asked, "Just because that guy sat on me, you think I want to go back there?"

Shrugging uncomfortably, casting a quick glance at his friend and then away again, Hercules replied, "No …not just because of that. But, gods, this has to be driving you nuts. You can't eat, drink…flirt. Tell stories, entertain the crowd…and you want me to ignore you whenever we're around people who don't know you're there…how can you stand it?"

About to wave off the concerns, Iolaus paused and thought about it a little more. He could see it had been hard for Hercules to even suggest that he give up on this. His buddy deserved a straight answer. "Okay," he allowed, his hands on his hips, "I'll admit this takes some getting used to. But, it's just stuff…not important, not really. I'll get used to it…we both will. I'm not going to petition Hades for entrance to a place I don't want to be."

Hercules felt a surge of relief, but he still felt more was needed. This was too unfair to Iolaus. Like being denied, time after time, day after day. He deserved better than that. Straightening, Hercules nodded as he replied, "All right, if you're sure about it. But…that was the last time…"

"The last time for what? That we talk about me going back to Elysium? Good… 'cause it's a dead subject," Iolaus giggled, "if you'll pardon the pun!"

Unable to resist a pained grin in return, almost giddy with relief to know Iolaus clearly wasn't having any second thoughts, Hercules shook his head. "No," he answered, "that's not what I meant. And that was a really bad pun, if you don't mind my saying so. No…I meant that was the last time I'm going to pretend you're not there. I'm going to keep telling people you've come back to travel with me, to keep helping them, until all of Greece knows my partner is around, whether they can see you or not."

Iolaus grinned as he shook his head. "They'll think you've lost it," he teased.

"Maybe so…but I don't care about what anyone else thinks. They'll get used to it," Hercules replied, stalwart and loyal to his boots.

"Right, I can see it now," Iolaus snickered lifting his hands as if to encompass a large sign, as he turned to resume their journey, "Hercules, the Legendary Basket Case."

"Won't be anything new," the demigod countered, keeping a deadpan expression and flat tone, "most people always did think we were crazy."

Iolaus broke up, but the look he cast his friend over his shoulder was as full of gratitude as it was of laughter. Nodding succinctly in reply, Hercules felt better for having decided to make Iolaus as 'visible' as he could.

* * *

The nightmare came again, as disturbing and violent as all the other nights, drowning him, tearing at his soul until he moaned for the pain of it, struggling against the horror that haunted him. Worse even than before, for the fact that he'd dreamt it alone the night before in his chamber in the castle, not being drawn out of it by Iolaus' calm and reassuring presence. In the midst of the anguish and sick terror, and the utter, desolate sense of having betrayed his best friend, he heard Iolaus' voice…distant, but calling him, insistent, growing louder, until he reached for it, hungering for the consolation and assurance that none of it was real…none of it.

Finally, Hercules thrashed a last time and muttered incoherently, waking feeling dazed and disoriented. Once again, his searching gaze found Iolaus, hovering over him, concern etched in his face. "Iolaus?" he whispered, with a renewed thrill of startled hope, and when his friend nodded, reaching out to grip his shoulder with that light, cool touch he was coming to know, he sighed, remembering. Rigid muscles eased, and his breathing slowed. The images of the nightmare were no less true or wrenching…but the reality of Iolaus' presence brought relief. "Thanks," he muttered, for having woken him from its terrible grip…for being there.

"You need to talk about it, Herc," his buddy said quietly, but firmly. "It's not going away, whatever it is." Though he could guess.

Shaking his head, Hercules took a deep breath. "No…I'm alright now."

"Liar," Iolaus countered, his gaze direct and uncompromising. "It's about me, isn't it? You keep calling my name as if you'll never find me again."

Hercules flicked a look up at him, bit his lip, then pushed himself up, to sit cross-legged next to his friend. Swallowing, pushing still trembling fingers through his hair, he finally nodded, his voice tight, "Yeah. Mixed up memories. Sumeria…Mycenae."

Iolaus closed his eyes for a moment, and shook his head. Just a few simple words that said it all. Grief. Guilt. Anguish. Horror. Unendurable loss. Maybe even a little anger toward a friend who'd done all that to him by first jumping into a flying dagger, and then by forcing Hercules to…. The soul sighed quietly. "You have to let it go, Herc. All that's over…done. We've gone past it."

Looking out into the night, his jaw tight with the difficulty of talking about this, Hercules replied softly, "It's not all over. You're not whole…you're still paying the price of it all."

"I'm not paying it alone," Iolaus countered. "Every time you remember that others can't see me…every night, after one of these nightmares…I see it in your eyes. You pay it over and over again. It has to stop."

"How?" Hercules replied, turning to look at his partner. "How do I forget that I…"

A flare of irritation flashed into Iolaus' eyes. Licking his upper lip, he looked away, then stood to pace, his arms gesturing to expression his frustration with all of it. "Damn it," he sighed, "Will you stop…will you just STOP feeling so damned responsible! Gods, Herc…how many times do I have to say it? I chose to travel with you…I still choose to do that. You didn't shove me in front of that blade…I jumped. You didn't push me into Dahok's body…I moved in because I wanted to, needed to."

Turning to face Hercules, his voice compelling, almost pleading, as he continued, demanding something he wasn't sure he had the right to ask. "You have to forgive me for that. I couldn't, wouldn't even if I could, not save Nebula…or not help you rid that world of that horror. Gods… every time I see it in your eyes, I'm reminded of what I did to you…how I almost destroyed you. I can walk this earth as a ghost without regretting it, but I can't stand seeing what I did to you almost every time I turn around. I can't make it right…I can only be here, now, like this. Yeah, I'm a ghost…so that means you have to live for both of us. And you have to forgive me for that too, I guess. Or we'll drive each other crazy."

Hercules looked away as he murmured, his voice strained, "You forced me to almost destroy everything that you are, forever. You didn't…trust me enough to do it on my own."

"Ah no, Herc," Iolaus almost moaned in dismay, "that's not it…it wasn't ever because I didn't trust you. Nothing would ever make me not trust you. Gods, Herc…please understand. Dahok violated everything that I am…he took my life when he overpowered Gilgamesh and directed the knife. He took my body and used it for things I can't stand to think about. And," his voice cracked, "he would have killed you. I knew him…I'd been part of him for one horrible, unforgettable moment. I knew he'd use your hesitation because it was my body…he'd use me to kill you. I had to fight him, don't you see? I couldn't just let him…" Iolaus broke off, the words choking him…the idea of what Dahok could have done to Hercules ripping him apart, the idea of what he'd, himself, almost done to his best friend hurting just as much.

Regaining some measure of control, Iolaus murmured, "I'm sorry…I had to destroy him myself. Thank the gods, Hades specifically…and that other guy, whoever it was, for saving us both from what I couldn't stop myself from doing. I hated him with everything that I am…I couldn't exist, in any form, any longer, not so long as he roamed free. I just couldn't bear it any more. I'm just so grateful you did what you had to do anyway, risking your own sanity to do it…without the impact of the hind's blood, he'd have beaten me for sure. Herc…you didn't hurt me…you saved me."

Hercules' brow was creased in thought as he gazed intently at Iolaus throughout the lengthy revelation of how his buddy perceived it all. For so many long months, the demigod had been consumed by his own perspectives, his own beliefs about his culpability…his own overwhelming guilt. When feelings of abandonment and betrayal had surfaced, he'd embraced them, telling himself he deserved it…that it was something lacking in him that had driven Iolaus to the decisions he'd made. When he'd felt anger at Iolaus for having quit on him, for having died and left him alone…for having forced him to that final act in Mycenae, he'd directed it at himself, as only right and just, because it had all been his fault in the first place.

He'd never, ever, not once, really looked at any of it from his friend's perspective. And the idea that Iolaus believed that he was the one who needed to be forgiven was so unexpected, so foreign, it was earth-shaking. From Iolaus' perspective, he was the one who had done no wrong…had only been the innocent, hurt by things over which he'd had no control. He was the hero.

Iolaus waited, his head turned away…waited for the forgiveness he could only hope for. Hercules shook his head, smiling wryly, then chuckling wearily as he finally said into the silence, "Gods, we're good at beating ourselves up."

Iolaus looked up at that, and seeing the faint smile playing about Hercules' lips, he dared one of his own… tentative, but warily hopeful. "Does that mean you forgive me?" he asked, a trace of the old impishness in his cajoling voice.

Laughing, Hercules looked up at his friend fondly. "No," he replied, "it doesn't." At the flash of confusion in Iolaus' eyes, he added, "Because there isn't anything to forgive. You're right. You did what you had to do…what was right to do. Sighing as he studied his friend, he began the harder process of letting some of his own guilt go. "And…I guess I did, too," he murmured quietly.

Iolaus did smile then, relieved beyond words, as he once again settled into place on his side of the fire. Hercules pushed fingers through his hair, feeling his own relief at finally having found a way to begin forgiving himself. The memories would always be there. But he could live with them now. "And, you were right about the rest of it," he added. "It's over…done. We go on from here. If I'm the only one anyone can see…well," he grinned teasingly, "too many never seemed to notice you before anyway. So…like before, I'll just have to point out that I don't do any of it alone."

Iolaus laughed softly as he replied, "Yeah? Well, be prepared…they really are going to think you're crazy!"

"'They' always did," Hercules replied, laughter in his eyes.

Nodding as he chuckled, Iolaus agreed, "And, for the most part… 'they've' always been right."

"Is that so?" Hercules countered, lying down, one arm under his head as he settled to go back to sleep. "Well, as the only person I know who is definitely crazier than I am…you should know."

At peace, for the first time in almost a year, Hercules drifted off to sleep with the sound of Iolaus' giggles in his ears. And, he smiled in quiet contentment.

* * *

The shadows were lengthening, the sun almost lost in the west, but they'd decided to press on. It couldn't be more than another hour at most and they'd be home…back at the cottage where Herc had grown up and Iolaus had learned what love really felt like, both to give and to receive, and where Jason now lived on his own. They'd amused themselves for the last few miles by imagining how Jason was going to react to finding out Iolaus was back…well, sort of. They could just picture the look on his face when Hercules told him and Iolaus did something outrageous like pluck a rose petal and waft it past Jason's face. Giggling, Iolaus was wiggling his fingers in front of his eyes, imagining how he'd make the petal dance. Because he could…the endless nights of practice had strengthened his capacity to move small, light objects virtually at will.

Laughing like kids, they didn't hear the signs…a snapping branch, the rustle of long grass against the wind. Not until it was too late to prepare when the shadows on the side of the trail sprang into life, as a gang of bandits attacked Hercules. Sure…he was a big guy, but there were a dozen of them so they'd counted the odds in their favour.

Well, how could they know they were wrong on two counts? All things being equal, he could take them all without breaking a sweat…nor was he as alone as he might appear.

Caught off-balance, it was a moment before Hercules erupted into action, and by then he was surrounded by men with knives and swords. Dropping into a crouch, he lashed out with one taut leg, whirling around, knocking the closest ones off their feet. Grabbing one of them by the ankles, he lunged back up and spun around, the man flying stretched straight out, screaming his head off. The suddenly confused, on the defensive, bandits backed up out of the way…or some did, before they got clobbered by the human club wielded by the demigod's strong arms.

Iolaus had backed off a step, a bit startled as thugs pushed past and through him, trying to get to Herc's back. Rage ripped through him at his helplessness…and fear. One guy had a knife pointed right at his buddy's back! Without realizing it, he materialized before their startled, shocked eyes, causing one to scream in terror as he backed away, whimpering.

His eyes blazing like some demon from hell, Iolaus waved his arms and yelled, "BOO!" causing the guy he was eye to eye with, to blink, and faint dead away…falling unregrettably on the knife in his own hand. But just then, another knife blazed across the small clearing toward Hercules' unprotected back, and Iolaus focused all the force within him upon the hurtling blade, causing it to deflect and falter, dropping to the earth.

Using the back of one of the bandits who was stumbling back up to his feet as an impromptu platform, Hercules lashed out with a powerful kick, then completing the leap-frog maneuver, he cut down with the side of his hand to the thug's neck, knocking him senseless. He threw a quick glance at Iolaus, pausing to grin when he realized his buddy had materialized and was scaring the spit out of the goons who had noticed him. They were doing good, even great, as usual and between them, most of the bad guys were down or running away. Iolaus had just caught Hercules' eye and grinned back, when his eyes widened in horror and he yelled, "Duck!"

Hercules turned, taking a half-step to the side, to meet whoever was coming…but he didn't move far enough…nor did he have time to do more than begin to twist violently away when he saw what was coming. Desperately, he reached to catch, but it was too close and he heard Iolaus scream, "Hercules!" just as the arrow struck, burying itself deep in his right side. He swayed a moment, the force of the missile throwing him off balance, but then with a growl, he just broke off the shaft and lashed out with a straight arm punch at a guy who had charged him when he didn't fall. Bandits scrambled, some still hoping to take him…and they found themselves facing a raging bull who ploughed into them, tossing them away like kindling. Iolaus shrieked at those who hesitated, lunging at them, terrorizing them, until, finally, the battered remains of the thieving gang broke, gathered up their stunned comrades and ran, disappearing into the forest…afraid for their souls as much as for their lives.

The big guy should have been killed by the arrow, but he'd kept fighting like a god.

And the little one, well he must'a come straight from Tartarus to drag them back down there with him!

The yelling, screaming chaos, so sudden and unexpected, was over. Breathing heavily, his hand coming up to cover the short thin bit of wood that protruded from his bloody vest, Hercules turned to face Iolaus…a quizzical, almost surprised expression on his face.

"Herc?" Iolaus breathed, horrified by the sight of the fast growing stain on Hercules' vest.

The demigod shook his head, trying to clear away the fog that was descending over him…but, then, he dropped with it to the dirt, and it drifted over him until everything was dark.

"Hercules!" Iolaus screamed, dropping by his friend's side. Instinctively, he reached out toward the wound, to check it…to rip the shaft from Herc's body. But, his trembling hand stopped. Even if he could…what would he do then? He couldn't apply enough pressure to stop the bleeding. He couldn't rip off Herc's shirt to form a bandage or gather herbs to clot the wound.

Hercules could bleed to death!

"DAMN IT!" he raged, stricken by his helplessness. Gods, what could he do? Herc could be dying…what could he do? "Hercules…gods, Herc…hang on," he begged, his eyes raking the too pale face and then the shadows that were growing around them, the sun now set.

'Help,' he thought, forcing himself to think sensibly. 'I've got to get help!'

"Hold on, buddy," he called, hoping some part of Hercules could hear him. "You'll be okay."

Turning, he raced into the darkness, unconscious of the fact that he was still visible, his terror driving him on until he suddenly realized he wasn't bound by gravity, wasn't held by the earth. Stopping, forcing himself to think, to picture where he wanted to be, he flashed to Jason, materializing in the kitchen of Alcmene's cottage.

"Jason!" he cried out, not thinking, just knowing Herc needed them and needed them now!

Startled, the former King of Corinth turned from the fire, a freshly filled clay bowl of soup in his hand…and dropped it, shattering it as soup slopped and sizzled on the flames. Scrambling sideways, Jason's eyes were wide, his mouth agape at the vision that stood before him.

"Dahok!" he shouted in instant recognition, his voice filled with loathing for the monster that had killed one of his best friends. The demon was back, hadn't been destroyed by Hercules as everyone had said. Was here. Gods! "Stay away from me, you bastard!" Jason shouted again, lurching to his feet, hands out in front of him as he backed away.

Stunned into reason by his friend's horrified reaction, Iolaus' own eyes widened. Lifting a hand, wincing when Jason flinched, he tried to explain, "Gods, Jase, no! It's me…Iolaus!"

"Iolaus is dead," Jason snarled, reaching for one of the irons by the fire. "You killed him!"

Backing up a step, reaching for sanity, Iolaus begged, "Gods, please believe me! Herc's hurt…he needs you right now! I can't help him. Jason! Listen to me!"

"You're trying to trick me," the former King cried out in denial of the words, the abject plea in the face and voice. "Well, it won't work…I'll never fall for your lies."

Iolaus' eyes skittered around the room as he groped frantically for something, anything, that would convince his friend of who he was. Desperate, he asked in a rush, pleading to be believed, "Do you…do you remember what you said…when I thought Ares had killed Herc, and I couldn't save him because I couldn't swim…and I was thinking about leaving the Academy, and I wondered what Herc would say about that…do you remember, Jase? You said, 'Why don't you ask him?'"

Jason stiffened, doubt filling his eyes, unsure…not yet able to quite believe. "Iolaus?" he whispered. "Can it be possible?"

"Gods, YES! Haven't you figured out by now that anything's possible?" Iolaus cried back. "I'm a ghost, alright…but it's ME! And, Herc's been hit by an arrow…bad. About three miles from here. You need to take the wagon. Damn it! Would you hurry it up before you have two ghosts on your hands! We don't have time for this!"

"Iolaus," Jason breathed, wonder and a joy he couldn't suppress creeping into his eyes. "It really is you, isn't it?"

"Right," Iolaus replied rolling his eyes, waving urgently as he turned to the door. "C'mon, get it together…you can be shocked later. I'll explain on the way, whatever…just MOVE IT!"

Suddenly, the urgency sank in. Hercules had been wounded, badly…and needed his help. Galvanized into action, stopping only to grab a fistful of rags for bandages from the cupboard, Jason lunged for the door, leading the way into the night. He hastily hitched up the team, and turning them in the direction Iolaus indicated, cracked his whip, sending the horses charging into the darkness.

* * *

Iolaus had elected not to ride all the way with Jason. After giving hasty but clear directions, he flashed from sight, needing to get back to Herc, to make sure he was still breathing.

Flashing onto the trail, he knelt hurriedly by his best friend's side. "Hercules?" he called out. "Can you hear me?"

But, there was only silence. In the light of the moon's glow, Iolaus could see the stain had spread…but the good news was he could hear Hercules raggedly drawing in one shallow breath after another. In a frenzy of bitter helplessness and fear, he waited impatiently for Jason to arrive, murmuring over and over, "You'll be okay, just hang on…you'll be okay…"

Finally, less than half an hour later, an eternity of time, he heard the thunder of the hoofbeats, and stood to wave down the wagon before it rolled right over the unconscious demigod…and realized he was probably invisible again! Cursing mindlessly with new fear and the frustrated rage that flashed through him at his hated helplessness, he willed himself into visibility, an indistinct, wavering phosphorescent facsimile of himself in the darkness, but enough to cause Jason to haul back heavily on the reins.

Clutching the rags in his hands, the Argonaut leapt from the wagon and raced to Hercules' side, dropping to his knees and trying to lock down the fear that assailed him at the sight of all the blood and the wheezing sound of Hercules' breathing. The arrow head would have to come out, but not here. He couldn't apply pressure and drive the wagon. So, he padded the wound that had been widened by Hercules' efforts to drive off the bandits and wound a long band of linen around the demigod's chest to keep it in place.

Hercules was a big man, and heavy. But, driven by fear, Jason bent and lifted him into his arms, knees buckling a little, but otherwise seemingly unaware of the burden. All he knew was that he had to get Hercules back home as quickly as possible. There was no time to waste and desperation married to determination made him strong.

Having one best friend show up as a ghost that night was one dead friend too many. He sure as Tartarus didn't want to see a second.

* * *

Iolaus had watched Jason tend to Hercules as best he could, and stood aside as the former King carried the demigod to the wagon, gently laying him inside, jumping up into the box himself to ensure Hercules was positioned as comfortably as possible. From there, he climbed up over the back of the seat and took up the reins, looking around for Iolaus.

The warrior soul had dimmed somewhat, but there was enough of the glow remaining for Jason to spot him in the back next to the seriously wounded demigod. "He'll be alright, Iolaus," Jason vowed, then snapped the reins to send the horses hurtling through the night.

Iolaus sat with his hand over the wound, careful not to put pressure on the arrowhead, but feeling around it, trying to sense the damage, trying to focus his attention on slowing the terrible flow of blood. His concentration was absolute, leaving no room for fear or helpless rage. This was all he could do to help Herc now…just this. Focus, concentrate, apply mental pressure to the wound…focus…concentrate.

Jason pulled up finally outside the house and hastily carried the demigod inside, Iolaus moving ahead to depress the door latch with his psychic energy to allow Jason to easily shoulder his way in. On through the kitchen and down the hall to the bedroom in the back, where he laid Hercules on the bed, gently easing down his head and shoulders. Though Iolaus was no where to be seen, Jason knew he had to be there…that nothing would take him from Hercules' side.

"I'll go boil some water and get what I need to take out the 'head," Jason said as he turned to leave the room, while Iolaus kept up his vigil.

Jason was back in minutes, carrying a tray with a bowl of water, more rags, a knife, little jars of herbs and two large candles. Setting the tray on the small table by the bed, under the window, he turned to rip Hercules' vest and shirt from his belt, baring the demigod's chest. The garments were soaked, heavy with blood, and a ruby stain had seeped through the hasty bandage, though not as much as he'd feared to find. Cutting away the linen, he sponged blood away from the wound to allow him to see the damage better.

"This isn't going to be fun," he muttered, wishing his old palace healer was here, glad at least for his years as a warrior and what he'd learned on the fields of battle. He looked up into Hercules' drawn, pale features, wishing there was someone who could hold him down…as if anyone really could. "At least he's unconscious," he murmured, then bent to his task.

The flint arrowhead was buried deep, under the ribs on the demigod's right side and it took the former King longer than he wanted to trace its path and ease it from the wound. He had to hurt to help, cutting around the entry of the missile, slipping the blade down along the side of the shaft through muscle and under bone, then using the flat of the knife to slip around and under the 'head. Carefully, patiently, he eased the arrowhead out, one hand pulling gently on the broken shaft. He cursed under his breath at the blood that welled, blocking his vision, but finally, the deadly piece of flint rose to the surface and he could whisk it away.

Hercules had lurched at the pain, his muscles rigid, his breathing harsh and raspy, moaning a little, blood bubbling on his lips. But it was as if, even unconscious, he knew Jason was trying to help him and he was doing all he could to remain still and endure the agony of the extraction. When Jason finished, again washing the wound, powdering it with herbs and binding it tightly, the demigod seemed to relax a little, his breathing steadying to a slower, deeper rhythm.

"We'll need to get water into him, to replace the blood he's lost," Jason said to the empty air, picking up the tray, and heading back to the kitchen.

'Tell me something I don't know,' thought Iolaus, standing to the side, where he'd watched the crude surgery, in an agony of anxiety. He raked fingers through his hair, his jaw tight and his eyes haunted as he kept watch. Moving closer to the bed, he curled his fingers around Hercules' hand, knowing there was no way his buddy could feel his grip, but needing to touch, to have some contact.

* * *

It was a long night, and an even longer day. A fever built, searing through the demigod's body, making him restless, thrashing with pain and disorientation. The only thing that let Jason handle him at all was the weakness Hercules suffered from the massive blood loss. The former King had stripped his friend, tossing the blood-soaked garments into a corner, and hour after hour, had fought the fever. Bathing the demigod's hot skin, forcing water into him, and herbal tea both for the pain and the fever.

Whenever Hercules' breathing would catch, or his fever spike dangerously, Iolaus would waver into view, his churning fear for his friend making him visible. In those moments, Jason could see the lines on Iolaus' face, the grim expression, eyes dark with anxiety. And, he could hear him…just. As if someone was calling to him from far away.

While he worked, whenever Iolaus shimmered into view, Jason tried to get information about what had happened, not just with the bandits on the trail, but with Dahok.

"I heard Hercules' killed the demon," he said, glancing over at Iolaus, who nodded, not taking his eyes from his best friend's face.

"Hind's blood…dagger….out of…body," he heard Iolaus reply.

Frowning at that, Jason looked down at Hercules, wondering how much it had cost him to do that to someone he knew the demigod had still equated with Iolaus.

"I thought you were in the Elysian Fields," Jason observed, again looking toward Iolaus, who shook his head.

Casting a quick, unreadable look at his old friend, Iolaus replied, "I decided to stay here."

Though Jason only heard, 'I…stay…' it was enough to give him the gist of what had happened. One brow rose in skeptical inquiry, as Jason observed wryly, "And Hades just decided to let you?"

His eyes once more on Hercules, Iolaus merely nodded. It was too hard to carry on a conversation this way. Fading in and out, his words only partially heard. He heard Jason sigh and flashed him a wry look, a twisted smile of commiseration. It was hard on both of them.

Pausing in his ongoing efforts to cool the demigod's body, Jason stretched his aching back, and gazed thoughtfully at Iolaus, who was beginning to once again fade out of sight. He'd seen and done a lot of strange things in his life, but he'd never thought to be holding a conversation, if you could call it that, with the specter of this old friend. He didn't know how he felt about it, when he thought about it. Everything had happened so fast. Glad, to at least see Iolaus again, to know he was near. Sorrowful, that it had to be this way…accepting that Iolaus really was dead, for all he'd apparently refused the eternal comforts of Elysium. Jason wondered briefly why his friend hadn't been granted the right to return to his body, but shrugged. It was too complicated a question, and the kind of piecemeal communication they managed, shattered phrases more than anything else, didn't lend itself to long explanations.

Most of all, he felt a terrible loss. To have Iolaus close but not quite there only underscored, made immediate, the reality, the immensity, of his death. Sighing as he turned back to care for Hercules, Jason supposed it had been inevitable, given the risks the blond warrior had always taken, heedlessly…selflessly. But, knowing that didn't make the reality any easier to bear.

And, he wondered, what it must be like to wander the earth as a ghost…cut off from everyone around you. It was a kind a loneliness he didn't even want to begin to imagine.

* * *

During those long hours, Iolaus stood and watched, or paced restlessly in small circles, unwilling to leave Hercules' side. He kept going over the fight in his mind. First, he hadn't been paying attention. He should have sensed those guys…gods, he'd gotten lazy and complacent. Before he'd died, he'd never have let anyone sneak up on him like that!

And, there were only about a dozen of the thugs. A year ago, between the two of them, it would have been child's play to take them out, drive them off or round them up for jail. And, Hercules, on his own? He'd've been able to take them, no sweat. So, what had happened? Swallowing, he knew he'd been as good as useless, yelling 'boo!' like some demented kid trying to scare somebody. Worse, he knew Hercules' concentration on the fight had been broken with him there. His buddy had turned to look for him, why? To see if he was alright? Hardly. What could happen to him? He was already dead. No…to see how he was handling being left on the side, unable to do his bit.

Worse than useless…a dangerous distraction. If Herc had been paying attention to the bad guys, he'd've caught that arrow. He wouldn't be lying here now, too long unconscious, fever too high…

And, afterward? Could he stop the bleeding, tend the wound? Help carry his friend? Hold him against the bumps and lurches of the racing wagon? Fight the fever? Give him a simple drink of water? Hold his hand to let him know he was safe?

No. He couldn't do any of that. Nada. Zip.

Slumping down on the bed he'd always used on the opposite wall of the small room, Iolaus gazed at Hercules, listened to his breathing…listened half-heartedly to the few one-sided attempts Jason made at conversation. Invisible. Unable to be heard. Useless.

So damned useless he could scream for the frustration of it.

And scared. That he'd let Herc down. Hadn't been able to help. Had been a liability. And, now Hercules was paying for that.

DAMN IT!

He'd been scared sick when it first happened, unable to help. Afraid Hercules would die, bleed to death, or that the gang would come back and finish him off while he laid there helpless, alone. Because his best buddy couldn't do anything to help him, protect him…had had to leave him to get the help needed.

Some partnership this was turning out to be.

What had he thought when he'd insisted he wouldn't go back to Elysium? That it would be the same as it had been? That he'd be able to do some good? That he could watch Herc's back, even if he couldn't fight anymore? Well, he'd screwed that up the first chance he'd been needed. Oh, he knew Hercules was happier having him around. But was that enough? Would it ever be enough?

Was it enough for him?

There had to be more he could do! More than conjuring tricks. His jaw tight, his eyes shifting around the room sightlessly, Iolaus wondered just how far he could push this single talent of being able to lift or move things. What kinds of things? How heavy? How far?

Could he learn to lift Hercules? Carry him the next time he was hurt?

Could he learn to toss a bad guy away? Or hold back a monster?

Could he learn to use the energy of his mind to make his whole being a wall that no one could get past?

Gods…if he couldn't…what good was he?

* * *

It was late in the evening when Hercules roused a little, biting off a moan, the fingers of one hand rising to delicately explore the source of so much discomfort. Blinking, still bleary, he murmured, "Iolaus?'

"Oh, he's around here somewhere," Jason replied, an indulgent note in his voice, glad to see the demigod was reviving. The fever had broken about two hours before, Hercules' uncommon strength and resilience to injury and illness serving him well once again.

Frowning, confused, Hercules' eyes searched out the source of the voice. "Jason?"

"Yes, that would be me," the ex-king grinned, patting Hercules on the shoulder. "You had us worried for a while…but looks like you're doing fine. The wound has already begun to heal."

Hercules winced a little as he closed his eyes, trying to remember. There had been a fight on the trail. Oh yeah…he'd missed the arrow. After that, it just seemed to be a fog. "How'd you find me?" he mumbled, licking dry lips.

Jason chuckled in chagrined memory as he reached out and poured a mug of water, moving to support Hercules' head as he held it to the demigod's lips. His patient drank gratefully then sagged back, tired. As he set the mug aside, Jason sat back and replied, "Iolaus came for me. Scared the dickens out of me when I saw him, I can tell you. Thought that demon Dahok was back. Anyway, he told me where to find you and waved down the team when I got there."

Hercules peered at Jason, trying to make sense of what he was saying. Iolaus had… "Iolaus…where?" he asked then, twisting his head to look around the room.

"I'm right here, Herc," his buddy replied, standing up from where he'd been sitting on the bed across the room. Iolaus gave him a slow smile, but his gaze wavered a little. "Jason's right…you'll be fine in no time."

Hercules smiled back, reassured…and drifted back to sleep.

Iolaus stood with his thumbs hooked into his pants, his head down, relieved to know Hercules was definitely on the mend. Jason sat back and sighed, looking around the empty room. "Sure wish I could see you," he murmured.

Lifting his head to gaze at his old friend, Iolaus replied quietly, "I wish you could, too."

* * *

Hercules was a great deal more alert the next day, able to laugh at how Iolaus had made an appearance much to Jason's complete surprise. "Well," he chuckled, "we debated how to let you know…but scaring ten years off your life hadn't been our original plan."

Jason laughed, a low, mellow sound, as he replied, "Oh, that's alright. Once he started yelling at me to 'move it', I got over the shock. So, since Iolaus seems unusually reticent, why don't you tell me what happened."

Hercules heard Iolaus snicker at their friend's remark, as Jason tried to make light of the fact they'd not been able to communicate, hiding the frustration and pathos of it all. Once again, Hercules explained all that had happened in the past week…gods, it seemed an age ago. Jason listened, nodding a little, thinking he'd figured a lot of it out for himself…feeling nothing but relief to know that one way or another, Iolaus had found his way back to the demigod who needed him. During the explanation, Jason had been able to place Iolaus in the room by the glances Hercules flicked at him. When the demigod finished a factual, if somewhat colourless, version of the tale, Jason cut a quick look back at the other bed. "Well, now I really wish I could hear you. He never did learn to tell a story properly, did he?"

Startled into a delighted grin, Iolaus laughed. Whether by luck or astute observation, Jason's eyes had leveled right at his own, and it was almost as if…well, almost. "You tell him, Jase," he said, "Herc always says I exaggerate."

When Hercules chuckled and relayed the message, Jason shook his head. "Embellish, maybe? But, exaggerate? Iolaus? Now, how could you say such a thing, Hercules?" he teased as he stood.

"Me?" protested the demigod, feeling as if time had turned back, the three of them kidding around as if everything was normal. "I can remember a time or two…"

"Now, now," Jason soothed, moving to the door, "don't be making up stories. You're not that good at it." He ducked as Hercules threw a pillow at him, and laughing, continued, "I'm going to get some good hearty broth for you…build back that legendary strength of yours. Call if you need anything."

Once the door had closed behind him, Hercules cocked a brow at his buddy, smiling as he said, "So…you popped in on Jason, did you? Wish I could have seen his face."

Iolaus smiled, but his heart wasn't in it. Jason's face hadn't been a pretty sight at that precise moment. "So, you feeling okay? Anything you need?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Yes and no, thanks," Hercules replied, easing himself over onto his side so that he could see Iolaus better. Jason, though he hadn't known it, had been absolutely right. Iolaus was being unusually reticent. "Good thinking, to come and get him so quickly."

"Yeah," Iolaus replied, his voice a little tight. "Seemed the least I could do…what with you bleeding all over the trail and all."

His eyes flicking away and down a moment as he thought about what that scene must have been like, Hercules frowned a little, then looked back at his friend, thinking that he understood what was going on in his buddy's head. "You can't help the fact that you couldn't do it all yourself, Iolaus. You did what was needed. That's what counts."

Shrugging a little, looking away, Iolaus blew out a sigh. "I hate it, Herc, sometimes, being nothing but a useless ghost. You could have died out there, alone," he said quietly, knowing there was no point in pretending he wasn't bugged about it.

"I didn't die…I'm fine," Hercules replied, then grinned a little. "And, for a 'useless ghost', you kept yourself busy, scaring off the bad guys and then getting Jason. You did good, don't sweat it."

Snorting, Iolaus looked back at him, his gaze steady and determined as he replied, "Yeah? Well, trust me, I'm going to learn to do a whole lot better than that. You ain't seen nothin' yet."

Intrigued, wondering if he should be worried, Hercules quirked a brow as he asked, "What are you up to now, Iolaus?"

Narrowing his eyes as he chewed his lip, Iolaus shook his head. It was too soon to say. He had to find out what he could do, what his limits were. Besides, it was always fun to keep Herc in suspense. Giving his buddy a wicked grin, all he said was, "You'll see."

* * *

Hercules was able to get up the next day and felt almost fit the day after that. He insisted upon helping Jason with light chores around the house and barn. In response to Jason's questions, he finally brought his old friend up to date on what he'd been doing since Iolaus had been killed in Sumeria. "I wished it had been me," he murmured, then carried on, his voice halting as he described the events up to his departure from there in Nebula's ship. "I was a wreck, Jason," Hercules admitted honestly. "I just wanted to, I don't know, disappear, stop being me. Forget. But, I couldn't." Shaking his head in rueful memory, "How could I?"

He told of how he'd met the Druids, and of how they had tried to help him, letting him imagine he'd seen Iolaus in a cave in Eire. "It did help, some, I guess. At least, I let them believe it did," he murmured, staring off over the horizon, wondering where Iolaus was. He'd been making himself scarce lately, finding it too awkward for both himself and Jason to have Hercules forever trying to translate his reactions and words. Consequently, the demigod didn't realize Iolaus was up in the loft, listening, surprised at Hercules' assumption that the encounter in Eire hadn't been real. Shaking his head, he remembered how hard he'd prepared for that sorrowful reunion.

But, Hercules had carried on, recounting the story of Morrigan, and her daughter. Telling of his voyage to the Norselands and back…and of Dahok's brutal slaughter of all the other Druids. And, then the rest of it, the voyage back to Sumeria, his horror at finding out that Dahok had commandeered Iolaus' body, and the battles there and in Greece, until he'd finally been reunited again with his partner.

Jason had interjected from time to time with a few questions, heartfelt sighs and muttered oaths, but mostly he just listened, figuring Hercules had needed to talk about all this, with someone he could trust. And, he couldn't very well go into the gory details with Iolaus, who would only feel guilty over the pain his death had caused.

"The two of you have been to Tartarus and back," the ex-king sighed, deeply saddened for the both of them. Frowning, he looked around, as he asked, "Where is Iolaus anyway?"

Hercules shrugged, as he went back to raking out a stall. "I don't know, wandering the woods maybe. It's hard for him, you know…not being able to really take part in a conversation."

Nodding, Jason sighed, as he replied, "I can only begin to imagine…I find myself looking around, wondering if he's there, if he's watching me. Damn…I hate not being able to see him, talk with him again. And, I keep thinking I should apologize for how I greeted him that first night. The look on his face when he realized I thought he was Dahok…I think it was that expression of horrified shock that finally got through to me."

Hercules frowned, his head down as he raked. Iolaus hadn't mentioned anything about that. Biting his lip, he remembered his buddy's words, that anyone seeing his face would only see a monster. Gods…that had to have hurt, hearing that from Jason, of all people. "That's why he wouldn't go back into his body," Hercules replied quietly. "Because anyone who saw him would have had the same reaction. One more thing Dahok did to the two of us…he made Iolaus detest his own body so much he couldn't stand the idea of having anything more to do with it." Sighing, he looked up at Jason, the memory of it still haunting his eyes, " He told me to burn it."

Jason closed his eyes as he looked away, trying to blot out that image. Not wanting to imagine what either of them must have felt as they watched the pyre burn.

Iolaus decided he'd had enough…and that they had too. Raking over the pain didn't help it heal. If he could have his way, he'd have burned the memories along with the body. Blinking himself to a position a little distance from the barn, he began to whistle, to let Hercules know he was on the way back…from the woods, apparently.

Well, Herc hadn't been far wrong…it was where he'd been spending his nights, testing out just how far he could push these flimsy kinetic powers of his.

* * *

Within a week, Hercules was back to being as good as new. The three friends tromped through the woods and across wide fields and meadows, stopping to fish one day, but mostly just revisiting old haunts, laughing at the memories the places evoked. Iolaus traveled with them those days, tried to enjoy sitting by the stream without wishing he was holding a fishing pole in his hand, but mostly just enjoying being with his two best friends, even if one of them couldn't see him. When he got bored, he'd amuse himself by talking a stroll on the top of the stream, pointing out to Hercules where the fish were pooled below his feet. The first time he did it, Hercules nearly choked at the sight of Iolaus walking on the water, causing his buddy to burst into giggles and Jason to demand what was wrong. When Hercules described Iolaus' antics to the ex-king, Jason chuckled, pulled in his line and recast it over to where Iolaus had indicated there were fish, calling out, "Thanks, Iolaus…you make a great fish-finder!"

On market day, they ambled into Thebes, to get some supplies and to catch up on the local news. Hercules and Jason took the opportunity to let folks know that Iolaus was back…in a manner of speaking. Old friends reacted with muted joy, glad to know one of their own had returned, particularly glad for Hercules' sake, but sorrowed that they couldn't see the legendary hunter…a lot of the women looked very sad indeed. Newcomers just looked at them oddly, as if they'd lost their minds…at which point Iolaus would waft an apple or melon in front of their faces, and break up when they bolted in shock.

At one point, Iolaus drifted off, a look of wicked anticipation in his eyes that Hercules caught and wondered at, but the demigod just shrugged, being engaged in a conversation with the blacksmith. But, when Iolaus didn't reappear within a few minutes, Hercules sauntered off in the direction his friend had taken, wondering what he'd gotten up to.

When he saw his buddy darting in and out of a wall, he winced at the sight. Gods, he just couldn't get used to seeing Iolaus walk through walls or trees as if they weren't there. And, then he noticed just which walls Iolaus was passing through with such evident glee.

"IOLAUS!" he shouted, appalled. "Stop that!"

Startled, the ghost looked around and grinned, partly at the look of shocked sensibility on his friend's face and partly at the reaction of the passersby at the demigod's shout. Some jumped and looked around…but the lovely ladies exiting the bathhouse just looked up and giggled when they realized what had been happening, winking at the demigod before they sauntered away.

"Hey, Herc, relax!" Iolaus soothed, as he bounded over to join his friend. "See…they didn't mind the idea that I've been, well, sightseeing," he pointed out, gesturing to the women. "Truth is, most of the gals in there would have been really glad to see me if they could! And, besides…a guy has to have some fun, even if he is a ghost!"

"How many times have you 'popped in' there for a look?" Hercules demanded, scandalized.

Shrugging nonchalantly, Iolaus held up his fingers and flicked them as if counting, then he looked up teasingly, "You do mean just today, right?"

"You've done this before!" Hercules rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Iolaus…you…it's not right!"

"Okay, okay, it's not like I'm hurting anybody!" Iolaus protested with a slight whine, looking hurt and put-upon. "I was just, you know, trying to find some of the advantages to being invisible. It's not all that much fun, you know."

Sighing, the demigod pushed his fingers through his hair. He never could resist that soulful look. "I know," he replied, relenting a little. "Just…just don't do this again, all right?"

"Today, you mean?" Iolaus chirped, and when Hercules looked like he could cheerfully throttle him, the impish soul giggled and waved it away. "Ah, it's okay, all right, I'll be good. So…all the shopping done? Are we ready to head back home now?"

Shaking his head, wishing he could loop an arm around his buddy's shoulders and give him a little shake, Hercules nodded and they turned back to find Jason.

It was during these rambles that they began to hear stories of how livestock had begun to disappear, during what seemed to be sudden, very localized, violent storms. But, it wasn't until a couple of days after the first story that they heard from a farmer who'd been close enough to see the strange phenomena. A kind of low level funnel cloud, with a wide maw that sucked everything nearby inside…and then vanished.

Hercules froze and turned his head to look at Iolaus, who was staring back at him, mouth a little agape, eyes wide with appalled understanding. They'd hoped that phenomena had been ended forever when the Sovereign had finally been trapped alone in the space between their two realities.

But, it had started again. And it would have to be stopped.

They took to camping in the area where the incidents seemed to have most frequently occurred, waiting for the gateway to open again. Something must be happening on the other side to have opened it again…and they'd have to go through to find out and fix it if they could.

Though he clearly wasn't happy about it, Jason finally promised Hercules he wouldn't follow when the demigod and Iolaus leapt into it. Even then, he'd only reluctantly agreed when Hercules pointed out, at Iolaus' suggestion, that their only hope of getting back might be to have Jason on this side, petitioning the gods on their behalf to open it one last time.


	3. Spirits of Heroes, Unite!

Chapter Three: 'Spirits of Heroes' Unite!

More than a year earlier…

The Sovereign skidded down the long entrance into the small, rocky cave, cursing and spitting his uncontrollable rage at being caught and sent back by those two arrogant gods of the other dimension, Zeus and Ares. He'd almost won…couldn't figure out how the gods had broken out of the Vaults of Heaven. Didn't care…just wanted to make them PAY!

By the back wall, the Jester turned to peer over the large boulders, startled and pale as he began to tremble. Stepping silently through the wall back into the empty courtyard, he thought a time might come when the perils of being close to the Sovereign would be worse than the terrors of the world outside.

But, today wasn't that day.

Unfortunately, he hadn't been silent enough. The slight scrape of stone, the flash of the brown jester's cap was all the Sovereign needed to be back up on his feet, storming to the back of the rock-filled cavern. But, there was nothing there. Frowning, he prowled closer, keeping a wary watch on the boulders around him, wondering if his loyal little buddy was hiding, waiting to come after him again with a knife, like the last time. No…that had been the other runt. But, had this one planned the same thing? Snorting with contempt, the Sovereign decided it wasn't likely…his was an amusing little coward, who started at the sight of his own shadow. No…it was the other Iolaus who had the grit.

Stealthily moving closer to the back wall, the evil demigod shook his head. He'd been sure he'd seen…wait, what in the name of…the wall shivered and shimmered a little, making him shake his head to clear his eyes. But…the problem wasn't with his vision. Moving closer, he could make out a courtyard and, yes! There was the little sneak, cringing down the alley.

With a roar, the Sovereign plunged through the portal, lunging into the world beyond, his eyes flashing with triumph, his face flushed with the desire to crush something!

The Jester heard the roar of triumph as he started to ease around the corner and looked back. His eyes widened with horror, and he started to shiver, like a rabbit caught in a trap. Swallowing as he looked into those venomous eyes, his face a pale mask of undiluted terror, he turned and bolted, running as fast as his legs would carry him.

The Sovereign made quick work of the Empress' bid for power, storming his castle, tossing away any who dared to impede his progress…though most scrambled out of his way to save their skins, leaving him a fairly clear path to his goal. Stomping into the throne room, he threw that sycophant, Falafel out of window and stalked over to loom over the Empress Nebula, his eyes smoldering with the desire to dominate.

Made of sterner stuff than the rest of the mortals in that domain, Nebula held her ground, tilting her head a little to look up at him through her sinfully long lashes. One brow quirked and a slow seductive smile beginning to bloom on her lips as she traced a sharp nail down his magnificently muscled chest, she purred, "Oh good…you're back."

Amused by her reaction, the demigod smirked as he drawled with his deep, provocative voice, "I didn't think you'd be so glad to see me."

Laughing low in her throat, she tossed her hair and moved away, then looked coyly back over her shoulder as she responded, "No? Well, I am. Without you around, there are no real men in this world. It was…dull …and boring."

His eyes sparked, and he laughed, delighted with her wicked treachery. Finally, a woman who truly was his match. "Let's see if we can't liven things up a little," he drawled as he moved toward her, slowly, his eyes feasting on her until she was within arm's length and he reached to pull her tight against him. "I think a merger might be in order…" he murmured as he lowered his lips to hers.

But, that was almost two years ago….

Driven by power, united in their cruelty, the two had merged in more ways than one, bringing their armies together to dominate the whole of their world. It was a reign of terror, leavened by horror and basted with blood. But…it hadn't been enough to satisfy them. They owned the world, but they wanted more…they wanted Olympus. The Sovereign wanted even more than that. Once he'd harnessed the powers of all the gods, he'd open that channel to that other world and finish off his despised double and that treacherous worm he called a partner…and then he'd own that world, too.

In his spare time, the Sovereign tracked down his favourite little amusement and had him hauled back to the palace in chains, beaten and bloody. From that moment on, he kept his Jester by his side and made the man's life a Tartarus on earth. Forced to perform, or face another almost lethal battering, or a whipping that drove him into darkness, the Jester used his fear to drive him to greater and greater antics of mania, his face frozen into a smile, his eyes bright with terror, he juggled, sang, danced and acted his little heart out. Not that it was ever enough…nothing was ever enough to please his master or his queen. Unable to bear his existence, the little man prayed for death but, reluctant to take his life, knowing it would be the death of another, he cursed his own cowardly inability to kill himself. He was trapped…and so he danced when it was demanded of him, tears glittering in his eyes.

And so it was, as the Sovereign and the Empress plotted, he was there to hear their plans, deemed too insignificant to matter, if they noticed him at all. He was sickened by it all, and seriously considered reaching for one last spark of courage, enough to kill the Sovereign, or at least try. But…he couldn't. He remembered that hero, so fine and noble…so good to him, so kind. The mirror image of this one, decent and compassionate, who had tried to tell him that he wasn't a fool, a wretched coward…worthless to anyone. He couldn't do it…couldn't take an action that would destroy the best man he'd ever known.

And, in the secret depths of his soul, he mourned for one who had been his friend, when they'd been children so long ago. One he'd loved with all his heart, before the monstrous hate had captured his friend's soul. One he wept to know he still loved…and despised himself for his weakness, his foolish, pitiful hope for so many years, though now quenched, that his friend would recover and be the man he might have been.

Wringing his hands with helpless misery, he heard them concoct their devious plot. Wily, far from stupid, they knew they couldn't achieve it all alone. And so they'd tricked Cupid, God of War, into an alliance, fawning on him, pretending a worship they didn't feel. With his help, they'd first raided Poseidon's cavern inside the volcano, to steal the invincible tools they'd need, and then their campaign began in earnest.

Because it pleased them, they began with Ares, God of Love. The poor, gentle creature, so sentimental and blind to pure evil, had appeared at their summons, delighted to think he might finally have some influence upon them…might soften hearts harder than granite. Iolaus turned away, unable to watch when Cupid appeared, vain and contemptuous, to brutalize the father he despised, and to clap him into chains.

Using Ares, they lured the others in, Aphrodite first, then Artemis, and on and on, Athena the last to be tricked. But, in time, they had them all, secreted away in the hidden centre of the maze below the palace, crouched together, bound, trembling a little to wonder what was going to be done with them. Laughing, the Sovereign had pulled Ares out, away from the group, parading him around as a trophy…mocking the others for having cared enough for him to have become victims themselves…for having been too stupid, too witless to recognize the danger, too complacent in their own power.

The Empress had smirked with triumph, and Cupid had turned to regard the faces of the gods he'd helped vanquish, reveling in his power over them. It had been a mistake. As soon as his back was turned, the Sovereign whirled, kicking out hard, driving Cupid sprawling onto the others, and the Empress, having been waiting for just this moment, clapped her hands three times, sharply. It was the signal. The shimmering carpet they'd stood upon sprang up and around them, tightening into a closed circle, shrinking until their screams could no longer be heard except as an echo, far away.

"Ta duh!" she cried, flinging her hands into the air, as if she'd just performed the most amazing magic trick.

"Beautiful," crooned the demigod, moving forward to lift the golden, shimmering ball, tossing it lightly in his hands as his eyes blazed with unholy triumph. Turning, he strode to the centre of the hall, to a stone pedestal, then placed the ball in the air above it, where it hovered motionless. Bowing sardonically to the gods who had fallen to his will, he smiled in grim satisfaction, then straightened to lift his hand and waggle his fingers as he said, "Bye, bye!"

Then, linking the Empress' arm with his own, he hauled Ares out of the cavern with his other hand. Confident his jester would follow he led the way back through the maze, pausing only to unleash the monstrous serpent, back to the palace and the world he owned.

In their arrogance, they hadn't realized all that they had done.

The imprisonment of the gods, and their final enslavement had unsettled the delicate balance of the universe that now trembled…opening spasmodic portals to another world.

* * *

The evil overlords retired to 'celebrate' their unqualified victory. Ares, chained as he feared he might always be, turned away, sickened by the violent, ugly travesty they called love. She had never known love, not once, poor twisted soul, in all of her worthless life. And him, well, the god sighed as he gazed toward the corner where the Jester lay, curled tight with his face against the wall and his arms over his ears…the demigod had less excuse. For he had once known the purity of unconditional love, and damn his soul, he still did. But, the vain, inconsistent, over-indulgence of an all-powerful but unwise, fickle and sometimes bizarre and horrendously evil father, and the vicious soul-twisting cruelties of an insane mother had driven him into madness. And now…well, now all the demigod ever really seemed to want to do was punish that love. For its foolishness…or its courage? Sadly, a tear slipping down his cheek, the God of Love didn't know.

Ares sighed a long, tremulous sigh and knew his own heart was breaking. He'd tried for so many eons to bring love into this blighted world, but the blight was winning. There were too few innocent souls left, like the one suffering over in that corner. For just a moment, Ares felt rage rip through his soul, rage at the indecency of it. Rage at the useless, hopeless, mindlessness of it all. Rage that he was helpless to change any of it.

A lover, not a fighter, he didn't know the power of his rage…or that it ripped through the universe and tore another rent into the fabric of space and time.

* * *

As soon as the eerie clouds had begun to gather, growing darker and laced with silent lightning, the heroes were on their feet and running toward that far section of the fields. They got there just as the opening began to form, seething and indistinct at first, but growing larger, more defined. The winds began to howl, the air drawn toward the whirling vortex.

"Remember, Jason…STAY HERE!" Hercules shouted over the roar of the whirlwind, and then he and Iolaus were running full out, diving headlong into the sucking morass, pulled from sight just before it once again collapsed in on itself.

"And I'm just supposed to stand here and pray if you don't come back," Jason muttered in disgust, kicking at a rock in frustration. Looking up into the clearing sky, his lips thin with determination, his eyes glinting with a fiery purpose, his heart quaking with fear for his friends, he shook his raised fist, then cried out in fury, "Then, DAMMIT, that's what I'll do! Pray to you simpering gods cowering on Olympus, letting these two brave souls do your work for you! It's your job to hold the universe together, or didn't anyone ever tell you? So get your butts in gear and do something about this mess…before it's too damned late!"

* * *

Buffeted by the violent winds inside the vortex, Hercules reached out unconsciously to grab hold of Iolaus, to hold him steady and close…and stumbled when his fist closed around a strong arm. Startled, forgetting everything else for a moment in shocked wonder, he turned to his friend, looking down at his hand and then back into Iolaus' eyes.

Iolaus shook his head, and shrugged. He didn't understand it either. Was just as shocked to feel Herc's grip on his arm. For a moment, they stared at one another, oblivious to the howling, wrenching force of the wind…and then Hercules pulled his best friend into a tight hug. Grateful for this moment, they both it knew it couldn't last…but Iolaus ached with the relief of once again feeling the touch of another living being however briefly. Hercules closed his eyes, wishing this could be real.

The unfeeling wind dragged them onward, tossing them unceremoniously down into the long, shallow shaft of a stony cavern. As soon as they were pitched across the threshold, Hercules lost his grip as they rolled and tumbled over one another until they piled up against the carcass of a cow. Wrinkling his nose, Iolaus slithered away. "Yyyeewww," he protested. "Guess this proves what happened to the 'stolen' livestock!"

"Uh huh," Hercules grunted as he rolled to his feet and moved to follow his buddy around the dead beast, farther into the cavern. When Iolaus paused, looking around, getting his bearings, the demigod reached out to grip his shoulder…and once again made contact. Turning his head, Iolaus looked up at the demigod with a bright grin as he observed, "Guess the normal rules don't apply here…wherever here is."

"Guess not," Hercules agreed, thinking he'd finally found something good about this empty space between their worlds. "It's the prison out of time and place," he answered Iolaus' implied question as he looked around. "And it looks like someone has found a way out."

"No Sovereign…yeah, I noticed that, too," Iolaus muttered. "I wonder if the prison has been created that can hold him."

Shaking his head, Hercules moved forward to explore the relatively confined space. "I don't know…but there'd better be one. This guy just never ceases to cause trouble."

"Trouble?" Iolaus blurted out, caught between a nervous giggle and an appalled memory. "You haven't seen 'trouble' yet. His world is a nightmare."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" the demigod muttered as they prowled along the walls, looking for some hint of the escape route out of there. Circling around, they came to the spot at virtually the same time.

"Well, would you look at that?" Iolaus said quietly, peering out into the dim image of a courtyard.

"Looks like we found the gateway…let's see if they've laid out a welcome mat for us," Hercules replied, slapping Iolaus on the shoulder as he moved forward, ducking a little as he stepped through.

The small courtyard was dark, the night having fallen long before…and quiet. Blessedly, there'd been no witnesses to their silent, stealthy entry. Once he'd followed his friend through the portal, Iolaus reached out to touch Herc's arm, to get his attention. But, his hand just passed right through the demigod, and a flash of sorrow lit his eyes before he quickly doused it. Looked like he was just a ghost here, too…well, he was used to it…and then he felt a wave of sadness. For the first time since he'd confronted the Sovereign below the Vaults of Heaven, he thought about his double, and realized that when he'd leapt in front of that blade that his counterpart must have died, too. Sagging for a moment under yet another burden of guilt, he hoped the poor guy might at least have felt death was a release, not something to regret.

"This way, Herc," he called out quietly as he straightened with a sigh to lead the way around the fountain to the alley and the narrow street beyond. "We might as well start looking for him in the palace."

Hercules had felt the brief chill that passed through his arm and had understood all too well what it had meant. The rules were working again. 'Damn it,' he thought, as he followed his partner through the night.

* * *

Hercules looked enough like his counterpart, even without the beard, that the few daring souls who ventured out into the darkness of that world scurried out of sight as soon as they'd spotted the demigod. It was disconcerting, to see such naked fear in the eyes of these people when they looked at him. 'The face of a monster….' Iolaus' words once again echoed in his mind and, for the first time, he finally understood something of what his buddy had felt when he'd looked at the thing Dahok had made of his body.

It was then, as they were moving quickly through almost deserted streets, lit only by wavering oil lamps hung on posts or from the sides of stone buildings, that Hercules thought about the Iolaus of this world. The demigod was wondering how the timorous soul had ever managed to survive the horror of it, when he realized that the poor man probably hadn't survived. Casting a quick look at Iolaus, Hercules sighed sadly, remembering that other one, so frightened, with good reason, so convinced he was a coward. So much alike, yet so different. Like him and the Sovereign? No, he decided, not like that. The Sovereign was mad with power and bloodlust. His Jester was not a courageous warrior, but he had courage. To have survived an existence here, and remained essentially innocent and decent, he had to have had tremendous courage.

They were both somber as they made their stealthy progress to the castle, choosing a side entrance in the back, one guarded by only a single sentry who Hercules put to sleep with relatively gentle effectiveness. Iolaus led the way through twisting dark hallways of stone and up a winding staircase to the floor above, to the Sovereign's private suite. They were almost at the entry to the salon, the door hanging half open, when they heard Nebula's rich voice.

"Well, lover, now that we've caged up the gods, when do we go to Olympus to pillage their temples? I'm looking forward to getting some new jewelry!" she said, her voice low and seductive but with a hard, cruel edge.

"Soon," rumbled the low reply, "There's no hurry."

They froze and looked at one another. This was unexpected…Nebula? With the Sovereign? As quickly they both looked away, too conscious of the contrast with their own world, their own experience. Whatever this Nebula was, she wasn't anyone they could trust. But the words finally penetrated and they again looked at one another.

"The gods?" Iolaus mouthed, but Hercules just looked grim and shook his head. If these two escapees from a horror show had somehow enslaved their gods it couldn't be good. And could very well be the source of the instability between their worlds. They'd have to find these gods and free them. Neither wanted to consider what the future might hold if it was too late to bring balance back into the universe.

Deciding that standing around wasn't getting them anywhere, Hercules took a breath, pushed the door fully open and marched into the chamber, Iolaus right behind him.

There was surprise all round. The Sovereign and Nebula looked up, startled at the intrusion, then shocked to see who it was. The Sovereign recognized both Hercules and Iolaus, and his eyes narrowed, wondering how they had gotten there…and if that meant the way to the other world was already open to him.

Nebula's eyes widened as she looked from demigod to demigod…mortal, she couldn't see Iolaus.

Ares looked up…and smiled for the first time in weeks. "Hey, little buddy!" he called out to Iolaus, knowing who this had to be…and therefore who the Sovereign's double was. This was more like it!

Hercules' first experience at seeing this world's God of Love left him speechless for a moment, but his gaze hardened when he saw the chains around the chafed wrists and the bruises on the face. Behind him, he heard Iolaus' startled gasp as he scanned the room and spotted the Jester in the corner, who had looked up at Ares' greeting, thinking it had been for him. The Jester gulped at the sight of Hercules, the brave and good Hercules, here…and he closed his eyes, not sure if he was relieved or terrified for the life of the other world's demigod.

Hercules cast a quick look around to see if there were other possible threats in the room, alerted by Iolaus' gasp…and froze when he saw the Jester. "You're alive!" he whispered, wondering how it was possible, startling the Jester with the unexpected words and the look of surprised, relieved shock in the hero's eyes.

But, Hercules' words were drowned out by the Sovereign's contemptuous drawl as he stood up from his throne, "How thoughtful of you, to present yourselves to me, so that I might kill you at my leisure."

His attention drawn back to his counterpart, Hercules ignored the comment, demanding, "What have you done to the other gods in this world?"

"What have I done?" the evil demigod repeated, then laughed, as if the question was the most marvelous joke. "What have I done?" he said again, laughing in delight as he contemplated the answer, all the while moving closer to his uninvited, though not entirely unwelcome guests.

Following his lead, Nebula laughed as well, but she too was moving to circle to the side of the strange double who had appeared. She'd figured it out, of course, not being a fool. This was the Hercules from that other world…and she wondered where the other Iolaus was, what trouble he might be causing.

Hercules watched them come and widened his stance, preparing for attack. Keeping his eyes on his twin, he called out to Ares and the Jester, "Do either of you know where the other gods are?"

"Uh huh," confirmed Ares, cringing a little, knowing there was going to be a fight and wishing he was somewhere else. "In the maze."

"SHUT UP!" screamed the Sovereign, whirling on the God of Love, "or I'll make you pay." Without pausing, the evil overlord swung around and leveled a punch at Hercules…and the fight was on!

Hercules blocked the Sovereign's punch, and laid in with one of his own, a powerful hit to his counterpart's gut, sending him rocketing back across the chamber, but Nebula had taken the opportunity to leap on his back, going for his eyes with her lethal nails. He reached up and grabbed one arm, pulling her off and tossing her away, but she was scrambling back at him even as the Sovereign was stomping back to pound his twin into a pulp.

Iolaus watched, biting his lip, hating the role of observer. He'd been working on his skills, and managed to get Nebula's skirts to twist, tripping her, but it was only a delaying action and he knew it. Looking around, he wondered frantically how to help overpower these two maniacs. Nebula was screaming out curses, while the Sovereign was snarling in rage. Ares was cringing away, peeking out of one scrunched up eye to watch the action. The Jester was standing, shoulders hunched, one hand half shielding his eyes, his lips trembling in fear, wondering if he was dead and didn't know it. Hercules had been shocked to see him, so maybe he was dead!

Ares was bound, and couldn't be counted on to fight anyway. Herc could handle the Sovereign, probably, but he didn't need to have to deal with Nebula, too. If she distracted him, the bad guy could blindside him. That left the Jester. Making a face of distaste, but knowing he had little choice, Iolaus bounded over to his twin, muttering, 'I'm sorry, I'm sorry," as he leapt into the other Iolaus' body. They were identical after all…why shouldn't he be able to just slip right in!

The Jester shrieked at the sudden violation of another soul invading his body, pulling at himself, as if he could somehow pull the other one, whoever it was, out. Iolaus was calling out to him, in his mind, trying to reassure him. "It's just me, Iolaus…uh, the other Iolaus…would ya calm down!"

But, was getting no where. So, hating it, Iolaus just took him over, shoving the quivering other spirit into a corner of his mind, and moving forward to take on Nebula. He was surprised, and not a little gratified, to find the body in such good shape. The other guy acted like such a wimp, but he was an athlete in his own right, the muscles well developed, reflexes excellent, hand and eye coordination superb. 'Alright!' Iolaus thought, liking the feel of having substance again, as he rolled across the path of the fury-maddened Sovereign, surprising and tripping him into Hercule's fist, then bounded up to whirl into a kick, driving Nebula back.

Hercules flashed a quizzical look at the now battling Jester, but his attention was soon caught with having to trade punches with someone every bit as strong as he was, and a whole lot more ruthless. Ares merely gaped, forgetting to cringe, having seen one Iolaus merge with the other. He couldn't believe his eyes. Nebula was stupefied to see the little runt attack her, but soon launched into a counter-assault. Having ripped her skirts to free her legs, she kicked back, then whirled, punching him hard. Iolaus' head snapped back, then he moved in, blocking another roundhouse punch, backhanding her hard, sending her staggering backwards.

By the time they were done, the throne room was a shambles, the throne itself knocked sideways off its marble base, large vases shattered, one over the Sovereign's head, knocking him senseless, finally, curtains ripped from the windows, chairs in broken pieces…and two heroes were heaving for breath, sweat glazing their bodies and bruises beginning to grow dark.

"Wow!" Ares breathed, looking from one to the other, shaking his head, not sure whether to applaud or faint from the show. "You guys were like poetry in motion!"

"Uh huh," grunted Hercules, shaking out an aching fist as he turned to face the Jester. "Iolaus?" he asked, frowning slightly, wondering which one would answer.

"Yeah," the smaller man replied, a slight echo in his voice. Stepping out of the Jester, Iolaus held out his hands in apology as he continued, "Look, I'm sorry, really sorry…but I didn't know what else to do. I know I scared you."

Hercules and Ares heard the apology, but the Jester just looked bewildered, looking around the room, knowing who or what had been inside was now gone, but not sure where he or it went. "What was that?" he asked, a slight whimper in his voice as he looked down at his hands and then at the prostrate Nebula.

Sighing, Hercules moved to lay a reassuring hand on the Jester's shoulder as he explained, "That was my partner, Iolaus…you can't see him, but he's standing just over there. I…well, uh…he's a spirit."

"A spirit?" this dimension's Iolaus repeated, his eyes wide, his mouth a little agape. It was true then, the other Iolaus. Suddenly, he began to shiver and tears appeared in his eyes as the reality set in. "He's DEAD?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess," Hercules stammered.

"You GUESS?" the little man shrilled, patting his body. "If he's dead…then I must be dead! Oh…I'm DEAD!" Wailing in terror, wondering how he could be dead and not know it, wishing that being dead was better than being alive, he was oblivious of Hercules' efforts to reassure him, until the demigod grabbed him and held him steady.

"You're not dead," Hercules repeated again for the third time. "But…I have to admit, I don't understand why not."

"Not dead…" the timid man replied, looking from Hercules to Ares.

"Definitely not dead," Ares confirmed.

Sighing heavily, the Jester finally registered what it meant that the other Iolaus was dead. Looking up at Hercules, his eyes full of sympathy, he whispered, "Oh…I'm so sorry. I don't know what to say…when did it happen?"

Hercules looked over at his own Iolaus as he replied, "Almost a year ago…look, it's a long story. Right now, I think we should be doing something about the gods of this world." Turning to Ares, he continued, "You said you know where they are? Does that mean they are still alive?"

"Yeah," the God of Love sighed. "But, they're trapped…and it won't be easy to free them."

Moving across the chamber to the god, Hercules frowned as he studied the heavy manacles. "Maybe we could start by freeing you," he muttered.

"I doubt you can…these were forged by Poseidon himself," Ares replied, looking resigned. He'd been wearing the chains for a while now and was almost used to them.

Iolaus joined his partner, studying the restraints thoughtfully. Impossible for a mortal, or even a god…but maybe a ghost who knew how to pick locks would have more luck. "Let me see what I can do," he offered, frowning as he concentrated, his deft fingers moving first to the metal, and then delving inside. He couldn't touch or feel, exactly, but he could sense…his fingers letting his mind picture the internal workings. Closing his eyes, chewing unconsciously on his lip, he concentrated on the complicated mechanism that was hidden inside the metal. His mental energy probed here…and there…and then…

Snick!

The cuffs parted and fell away. Ares looked up with a relieved grin of gratitude, the Jester looked astonished and Hercules nodded thoughtfully.

Iolaus looked up at his partner, guessing what he was thinking. "Sorry…I think I broke them, so we can't use them to restrain the Sovereign."

Cutting his partner a sideways rueful glance, Hercules grinned a little as he replied, "Well…it was worth a thought."

Snickering a little, Iolaus looked up at Ares as he asked, "So…can you take us to the other gods now?"

"I could," he replied, but then looked over at the Jester who had moved to stand with his back to the wall, nervous, not sure what was going on since he couldn't see or hear Iolaus. "But, my friend over there knows the way as well. Why don't I stay here, keep watch on these two. If they wake up, I can try distracting them but if that doesn't work, I can at least let you know they're following you."

Hercules looked from Ares to the Jester and nodded. There was no point in hoping the God of Love would fight the two power mad warmongers anymore than he would have expected such a thing from Aphrodite. They were lovers, not…well…he sighed.

The Jester had looked startled at the god's suggestion, preferring if at all possible to remain as invisible as his counterpart seemed to be. Hercules smiled at him reassuringly as he said, "Well, then, we'd best be off. They won't be out of it for long."

Twisting his hands together, the Jester gave the demigod an uncertain look, then shifted his gaze to the two unconscious rulers and shuddered, imagining their fury when they woke. Taking a deep breath, he nodded and stepped away from the wall, toward the door. "The gods are in the centre of the maze beneath the palace. This way…."

With a last nod at Ares, the two heroes followed Iolaus' twin out into the hallway. The Jester was limping a little, and he kept looking around nervously, twitching then refocusing on the twists and turns of the complicated passageways of the rambling castle. The little man looked defeated and thoroughly miserable.

"He's hurting a lot," Iolaus said to Hercules. "That monster back there must've beaten him regularly…and hard."

Hercules frowned, sickened by the thought of his counterpart using his strength so cruelly. But, he thought something else might be bothering the Jester as he caught the man once again casting a nervous look over his shoulder and around the passageway. "What is it?" he called quietly. "Something's worrying you."

Ducking his head a little as he looked back then quickly away again, the Jester giggled nervously as he replied, "Worrying me? Well, there're the guards that'll attack if they see us, the…the Sovereign and Empress and what they'll do when they wake up…and, well…" his voice faded out as his shoulders tensed.

"And, you're worried Iolaus will take you over again?" Hercules suggested sympathetically.

Gulping, the Jester cut him a quick look, his eyes skittering around the passageway, then nodded, clearly upset by the idea. "I…well…it felt…"

Iolaus winced and sighed, his face reflecting his sorrow at giving his abused twin yet something more to worry about. "Herc, tell him I'm really sorry…I shouldn't have done that to him," Iolaus said earnestly. "I won't do it again…at least not without his permission. I know I really scared him…but I didn't know what else to do. Taking care of the Sovereign was enough without having to deal with that harridan, too."

"Iolaus apologizes…he just wanted to help me deal with the Sovereign and Nebula. But, he knows it was wrong to take you over without your permission. He won't do it again without asking," Hercules relayed the message.

The Jester had paused, watching the demigod while he'd clearly been listening to the other Iolaus. Taking a deep breath, he tried to settle the pounding of his heart…and his anger at being so helpless inside his own body. It was bad enough to be helpless to outside threats. He'd felt violated in a way he'd never experienced before, and that was saying something. Gritting his teeth, he nodded in wordless acceptance of the apology, explanation and promise. "I know I'm a coward and useless…but…well, alright. Just so's he doesn't do it again," he said quietly, adding miserably as he turned away, "unless he has to. I know he's a lot more help than I am in a fight."

He didn't speak the words, "It would have been better if I'd been the one who'd been killed in the first place."

But, he didn't have to. His dejected, self contemptuous posture and voice said it all.

The two heroes exchanged a look that showed they'd both heard and understood all that had been said. "It's not true, you know," Iolaus said as they hurried through the dark passageways. "He's in really good condition, great reflexes…and he's no coward! Gods, I don't know how he's survived so long here, with what the Sovereign does to him. How do we get him to understand that courage isn't just about trading punches?"

His eyes on their guide, Hercules shook his head as he bit his lip thoughtfully. Then, he lengthened his stride a little, saying quietly, "Iolaus…listen to me. You are NOT a coward…and you're far from useless. Without you, we wouldn't know where to begin looking for the imprisoned gods. A coward wouldn't be helping us…he'd have run at the first chance he got to get away from here."

Laughing bitterly, the Jester replied, "I tried that once. Got away. Almost a year ago now. I didn't know where to go, where to hide. So, I went to this cave place, behind a wall…" Looking up at Hercules, he said with a note of wonder, "You must know the place…that must have been how you got here. Anyway, the Sovereign figured it out and came for me." He sighed and shuddered at the same time at that memory. "I'd run if I thought it would do any good…but there's no where to go where he can't find me. So, what's the point?"

Hercules laid a gentle hand on the man's shoulder, making the Jester jump a little. The reflexive response to the touch of his hand made the demigod wince…but he maintained the strong yet almost tender grip. "You can make excuses for your courage as much as you want, if it makes you feel better. But, my partner and I know the truth…you can't hide your bravery from us, no matter how hard you might try to deny it."

Blinking hard, biting his lip, the Jester kept his head down, unable to speak for the lump in his throat. They thought he was brave. Respected him. No one else ever had before. Oh, Joxer had hoped and pushed him, but there'd always been doubt in the rebel's eyes. Sniffing, rubbing the back of his hand under his nose, the Jester carried on, leading them ever lower, down narrow dusty staircases of chiseled stone, until finally they came to a large oaken door, rounded at the top and locked solidly against intruders.

"The maze is on the other side," he explained, gesturing to it. Hercules gave the barrier a considered look, his fingers exploring its contours, then he stepped back and gave it a mighty kick, sending it flying into the space beyond, where it landed with a resounding crash.

The Jester blinked, then led the way forward into the darkness beyond, hesitating just inside to grope for a torch and light it with the flint that was always left there. In the faltering, flickering light, the heroes made out a huge open space, a cavern carved beneath the earth, massive stone pillars supporting the vaulted ceiling, stone benches positioned against the walls, the floor flagged stone. It was chilly and damp, spooky…and there was an indefinable odour of danger…even of malice. Iolaus felt the hackles rise on the back of his neck, as Hercules murmured, "What is this place?"

"The maze," the Jester replied succinctly, leading the way down the shallow stone steps. "Zeus created it for his half mortal son to play in…and then he'd forget Her…uh, his son, was in here, and leave him alone, lost in the dark, sometimes for days. Zeus is crazy, more than a few slices short of a loaf…and mean, sometimes. Very, very mean."

The heroes glanced at one another, thinking this went a long way toward explaining the Sovereign's insanity. The Jester paused at the bottom of the steps, quivering with fear. He hated this place. Was always afraid he'd never find a way out again…and there were so many traps that his young friend had confided to him long ago. Traps that would swallow up a mortal, leaving nothing but bones to molder through the ages.

Hercules took note of the shudders of fear that wracked the smaller man's body. "You don't have to go any farther…we can take it from here," he offered.

For a moment, naked hope shone in the Jester's eyes at the thought of being able to run back out through that doorway, but then his shoulders slumped. "You'd never find your way through, not in time," he whispered, knowing he had no choice but to lead him…them…onward. He again looked around, wondering where the other Iolaus was. Wondering how his double had died…and why they weren't both dead.

Well, in a little while, they both might be.

They'd been silently crossing the flagged stone toward a darkened entrance past the pillars, the Jester about to warn Hercules of the serpent, when the monster streaked out of the darkness, mouth agape, fangs glittering in the torchlight, hissing viciously.

Shrieking in startled terror, Iolaus ran back, around a pillar, trembling so hard he almost dropped the torch. Hercules backed up in surprise, then sidestepped and landed a powerful punch against the beast's head as it brushed by, just missing him. The power of his blow deflected the massive snake briefly, but otherwise had no visible effect as the thing regrouped and attacked again. When Hercules dashed away, trying to move it farther from the Jester, the serpent whipped around and back toward the quarry that was frozen in fear.

Before Hercules could swing back, the serpent was lunging at its new victim. It was just about to gulp down its prize when one of the stone benches flew from the wall, hitting it squarely between the eyes, stunning it, driving it back. Hercules got to the Jester and pulled him out of the beast's path, pushing him ahead as the demigod ran a complicated pattern around the pillars, the serpent hot on their trail.

They just made it, Hercules practically throwing the Jester ahead of him as they lunged through the darkened portal into the maze beyond, the serpent caught and held just short of snapping up the demigod's body, so twisted around the pillars that it had tied itself in knots.

Pausing once they got to safety, puffing a little, Hercules steadied the Jester and looked back, calling, "Iolaus!"

His partner came through the portal behind them, moving as if he was a little dazed. "You alright?" Hercules asked, his eyes narrowed…it might only be the light, or lack of it, but he thought Iolaus looked as if he'd faded a little.

"Yeah," Iolaus waved off the concern he heard in the voice, trying to look as normal as he ever did these days. Tossing that bench, as heavy as a small boulder, had had the usual effect. Weakness and dizziness. But, he'd learned as he'd practiced night after night, pushing his kinetic power farther and farther, trying to find his limits, that the after-effects didn't last. "Let's go," he urged, when Hercules continued to watch him.

Nodding a little uncertainly, Hercules turned away, gesturing to the Jester to lead the way.

"Did he…uh…Iolaus do that?" the Jester asked, referring to the tossed bench that had saved his life.

"Yeah, I guess he did," Hercules replied with a tone of amazed respect.

"I didn't know ghosts could do that," his companion commented, awestruck.

"Neither did I," the demigod replied, casting a look over his shoulder that said, 'You could have told me!'

Iolaus just grinned devilishly, delighted that he'd been of some use…and that he'd managed to surprise Hercules so effectively. The Jester paused a moment in the silence, looking up at Hercules. "Where is he?" he asked.

When Hercules stopped and pointed back at Iolaus, the Jester turned to face the spirit he couldn't see, as he said very soberly, "Thank you for saving my life." Awkward, shy, he immediately turned away to continue leading the way through the convoluted tunnels, choosing their route when the passages diverged.

* * *

In the half hour or so that had elapsed since the others had left, Ares had had time to consider how he might divert the two hellions sprawled on the thick, crimson carpets, the colour of freshly spilled blood. When they moaned and began to stir, the god took refuge behind the throne that was lying sideways on the floor and made an upward tossing movement with his hands. Immediately, scented rose petals fell from the ceiling onto the Sovereign and his mate.

They woke to throbbing headaches and the irresistible pull of lust coursing through their veins. Nebula rolled over and spotted her lover, a low animal growl of want in her voice as she half crawled, half lunged toward him. Coming to his knees, he spun toward her, his eyes burning with desire, and they came together with a violent urgency. Ares grinned almost evilly as he tossed more enchanted rose petals in their direction.

There is such a thing as overdoing it.

The petals cascading around them like the flurry of a snow storm, caught the Sovereign's attention and he growled, pulling away from Nebula's embrace, looking up and then around at the phenomenon. When his gaze landed on Ares, he rose like an enraged bull to charge at the god.

Ares muttered, 'Oops!' and vanished from sight, leaving the Sovereign to kick in fury at the throne, demolishing it in his rage as he screamed out his inarticulate anger.

Still caught by the force of the spell, Nebula lay sprawled on her stomach, looking up at him, reaching toward him as she called seductively, "C'mon lover, I want you!"

Heaving for breath, trying to calm himself enough to think, the Sovereign turned slowly, his eyes raking the throne room, then landing upon her as he stalked forward, reaching down to grab the outstretched arm, hauling her roughly to her feet. "Later…first we have to kill those bastards," he growled, dragging her through the doorway and into the hall, heading toward the maze.

Shaking off the effects of the rose petals, Nebula stiffened…and then she was running in his wake.

If the gods were freed, there was no telling what they might do in revenge.

Especially Cupid, who'd be less than amused by their betrayal.

* * *

Hercules was beginning to wonder if there was any end to this confusing maze of passages. He'd had to move quickly at one point to sprawl over the Jester, protecting them both from a plunging juggernaut of a massive blade that cut across one passage. Further along, he'd had to deflect boulders that had fallen from above, a quick shower of stone that would have killed the mortal with him.

The Jester was clearly terrified, exercising all of his will to keep going. He shied away from the scurry of rats, feeling a fool, knowing the other Iolaus wouldn't be so…so stupidly afraid. But, he couldn't help himself. He was almost petrified with fear.

Just moments ago, they'd escaped a passage that seemed determined to suck them under the ground, like a pool of quicksand that dragged them down. Memories, horrible, sickening memories, had played out on one of the walls, tormenting and taunting him with his failures, his crimes of pride, showing Hercules how he'd led his friends and comrades to their deaths in the revolution that had flared when the Sovereign had disappeared into the void. Tears streaming down his face, gulping out his agonized explanation of how he'd tried to be brave and had only gotten everyone killed, he was devastated to know he'd led Hercules to this place, where he, too, would now die for the foolishness of following a fool.

Hercules had figured it out, noticing that the more agitated the Jester became, the more shrill his grief, the quicker they were sucked down, the sand now to the Jester's waist and above his own knees. Cutting across the Jester's hysterical confession, Hercules shouted, "STOP!"

Startled, the Jester almost bit his tongue as he choked back words and stared wide-eyed, tears flowing down his pale cheeks, not surprised the demigod had turned on him in rage. But, Hercules' next words confused him, as the demigod continued quietly, almost soothingly, "Stop beating yourself up. This place…it feeds on guilt. You didn't do anything wrong. You tried to help your friends…you couldn't help not having the numbers, the strength, skills or proper weapons. None of that was your fault!"

Trying to breathe more slowly, understanding that it was his fear that was killing them, the Jester looked around helplessly, afraid to speak, afraid the truth as he knew it would condemn them now. He was a coward. It had been his fault that they'd died. And, his greatest crime was that he'd survived. But, he didn't want anyone else to die on his account…certainly not Hercules! Turning back to the demigod, he looked up with a guilt-ridden expression of hopelessness.

"Listen to me," the demigod continued, "you are not a coward. A coward would not have tried to fight back. A coward wouldn't feel such guilt and sorrow for what he couldn't help. A coward would not have been able to survive the torture of the Sovereign all these years…or have come back to free my Iolaus from the horror of this world. A coward would not be here now. Just…take it easy. Breathe slowly…deeply. Don't look at those lies on the wall. Look at me…and take my hand." Reaching out to the Jester, Hercules gripped the hand that was held out so tentatively, and pulled gently, freely the Jester from the sand that gripped him, then eased himself free. Taking their time, he led them to the end of that passage, his arm looped reassuringly around the Jester's quivering shoulders.

"Thank you," whispered the Jester when they'd made it to safety. "But…" he turned a determined face to the demigod, needing to speak the truth. "it was my fault. They all died because of me." There were tears of anguish glinting in his eyes, but he straightened, ready for the condemnation he believed he so rightly deserved.

Hercules felt tears sting his own eyes at the nobility of this tortured soul. Swallowing against the lump in his own throat, he shook his head. His voice a little hoarse, he said firmly, "No…they died because of the Empress and the evil of this world. You did your best to save them. Just as you're doing your best now, even though you are afraid. Doing what you fear to do because it's the right thing to do makes you a hero. That's what you really are, my friend. A hero. I don't ever again want you hear you try to tell me any different. I won't allow you to keep lying to yourself. It isn't right."

The Jester's eyes filled and his lips quivered as he tried to hold the emotion inside. Absolution from the one being he'd ever respected…if not the only one he'd ever loved…almost shattered him. He sniffed and swallowed, desperate not to cry. Hercules pulled him close into a hug, wishing so much that he could take away all the pain, all the terrible memories this man had to carry in his soul. The Jester stood there in the circle of those impossibly strong arms, sheltered for the first time in his life from that pain, taking deep shuddering breaths to control the feelings that surged within him. Iolaus watched silently, then closed his eyes as his head dropped in silent sorrow for all his counterpart had suffered. In a moment, no more, the Jester pulled away, nodding and sniffing, not able to look up at Hercules, afraid he really would lose complete control. Turning, he'd led them further into the maze.

They were getting close now, he knew it and was almost pathetically grateful for that fact. Suddenly, he backed up in startled alarm when Ares popped into sight in the middle of their path. "They're on the way," the god warned. "And, are they mad!"

"Are they ever not 'mad'?" Hercules replied dryly, looking toward the Jester.

The little man nodded, responding to the look rather than to the words, stammering with an anxious voice, "I know…we have to hurry!" Turning away, he started to run, still limping a little, along the remaining distance. Not far now…not far.

* * *

Jason had kept up his 'praying', storming at the gods of Olympus, taunting them, damning them all for cowards, demanding they take a hand in this.

It was beginning to be annoying, and the gods were getting irritated. If that ex-king, antique Argonaut didn't soon stop his ranting, they might have to actually do something to shut him up.

One, in particular, did not take at all well to being damned as a coward…but Zeus wouldn't let him just blast the noisy mortal into oblivion. Ares ground his teeth, seething, knowing he couldn't put up with much more of this…contempt.

* * *

The Jester had led them as quickly as he could along the only route that he knew through the maze. But, stumbling as he came to a halt inside the cavern in its centre, he moaned unconsciously, realizing there must, of course, be another way. The golden sphere was no longer suspended above the stone plinth at the far end. He was already looking wildly about, knowing danger had to be near, when Hercules loped in behind him.

"They're here," the Jester mumbled, his voice tight with fear, his face pale, distraught. "The golden globe is gone."

Hercules straightened, looking around the open space, noting the numerous passages that led off from its perimeter. What globe?

Laughing with evil delight, the Sovereign emerged from one such passage, a sword in one hand, his other carelessly tossing the globe into the air. "Looking for this?" he inquired, vastly amused…and very, very angry.

The Jester hissed, not sure what would happen if his ruler dropped the delicate sphere. Would everyone in it be destroyed? "Oh, please," he whimpered, "don't let him drop it!"

"Stay here," the demigod cautioned, laying a hand briefly on the Jester's shoulder, as he advanced into the cavern. Iolaus focused on the globe, his eyes narrowing as he tried to get a grip on the bouncing ball.

"Oh? You want to fight for it, do you?" the Sovereign taunted his double, smiling with anticipation as Hercules moved toward him. "Fine with me!" he called out as he looped the sphere high into the air, over Hercules' head…to Nebula who had appeared out of another passage on the far side.

"I'm on her!" shouted Iolaus, running across the cavern to follow her into the darkness, while the two demigods advanced on one another, the Jester and Ares cowering by the wall. The two angry doubles almost crashed together, swinging hard, connecting with impacts that thudded sickeningly, echoing around the cavern, the Sovereign cursing and taunting, Hercules grimly silent. The hero slammed hard into his opponent's solar plexis, then swung a powerful uppercut, catching his double on the jaw, sending him crashing to the stone floor. The Sovereign lashed out with his leg, tripping the demigod, then rolled, coming to his feet to disappear into the passageway, just as Iolaus ran out of one back into the cavern and Nebula appeared in another. Hercules charged after the evil overlord.

She couldn't see the ghost, and Iolaus was almost upon her, when the Sovereign appeared again from another direction, and saw the threat. "Look out…throw it to me!" he screamed, thinking she was an idiot, not understanding that this Iolaus was a ghost.

Not understanding, but obeying instantly, she tossed it high and far, straight into his hands, as Iolaus tried to pull up but ended up running right through her. She shivered at the sudden shaft of ice that had passed through her middle, looking around, wondering where it had come from. The Sovereign disappeared just as Hercules raced in from the side, cursing when he realized the passages crisscrossed and all led back to the centre. "Which way?" he called to the Jester, who pointed at the direction the Sovereign had gone. Hercules turned and dashed back the way he'd come, hoping to intercept his foe, while Nebula pulled a knife from her boot. With an evil grin that promised murder, she advanced on the Jester.

Iolaus turned, and took a deep breath when he realized the danger his counterpart was in. Time to try another trick. Racing around to get in front of her, he tightened his focus, his fists clenching unconsciously, as he dove in front of her, using his whole being as an obstacle…and she tripped headlong, screaming in fury, rolling quickly to regain her feet, the knife still clutched in her hands.

The Jester backed up against the wall, watching her come, knowing the other Iolaus was trying to help but was handicapped by being a ghost. Taking a deep breath, shuddering in dread, he cried out, "Do it! Take my body!"

Iolaus paused for just a moment, a look of awed respect in his eyes, then he dove into the Jester, and moved into action, rolling forward to throw Nebula off her feet, then springing up, whirling to kick out, knocking the knife from her hand. Cursing, she scuttled away to gain room to maneuver, then leapt to the attack. He blocked a punch, his other hand moving quickly to grab her wrist to keep her from scratching his eyes out. Twisting, he looped a leg behind her, tripping her, but she anticipated and pulled back, before advancing again, murder in her eyes.

Iolaus hated fighting her. With every block, every swing, he saw his own Nebula, and knew he was unconsciously pulling his punches, hesitating. And he couldn't afford to. She was deadly, had no mercy… and was a very skilled combatant. They grappled again, and he dropped, rolling backward, throwing her up and over. She went flying…and connected solidly with the stone plinth, slumping unconscious.

Breathing heavily, Iolaus scrambled to his…their…feet and looked around, just in time to see the Sovereign emerge from yet another portal, Hercules diving in right behind him, knocking the Sovereign hard. The evil demigod went sprawling, the globe flying from his hands. Iolaus' eyes widened and he lunged, diving forward, reaching…reaching…and caught the precious globe just before it crashed to the floor. Rolling into a tight curl, the globe sheltered tight against his chest, he knew he had to get away from the battling demigods.

But, the Sovereign, knowing the globe was the whole point, ignored his twin and scrambled up after the globe, kicking viciously at the Jester's curled back, holding nothing back in his fury as he screamed, "Traitor! Coward!". His victim went flying, hard and fast toward the far wall, but the beings inside the body, united in their purpose, worked together, the Jester fighting the terrible pain that ripped through him from the vicious assault, as he forced his body into an acrobat twist in the air, to hit the wall with his back. Stunned, he slid down, but he didn't loosen his grip on the globe.

Hercules attacked the Sovereign, grabbing an arm to pull the brutal creature around, furious at the assault on the Jester…and his partner who he'd realized was again inside his double…and ploughed mercilessly into his twin. One powerful slug after another, pounding out retribution, until the Sovereign staggered… and collapsed in a heap.

Hercules spun on his heel and raced over to the fallen Jester, who was shaking his head, trying to drive back the darkness and not scream from the pain radiating with fiery brutality through his body from the deadly damage done by the Sovereign's vicious assault. "Iolaus!" the demigod cried, kneeling, "are you alright?"

The spirit separated from his twin, shaking his head, "He's hurt, Herc…bad."

Hercules gingerly took the globe from the Jester's trembling hands and lifted up to Ares' waiting grip. "Easy," he murmured to his small friend, laying a hand on his shoulder, "try to breathe slowly…you'll be alright."

Iolaus looked back at the Sovereign and saw the villain's questing fingers had found the blade Nebula had dropped and was pulling back, to throw it at Hercules' unprotected back.

"Incoming!" Iolaus cried, concentrating on the blade…catching it in midair, then dropping it.

Ares had turned away even as Hercules stood and whirled to face his foe. Nebula was struggling to her feet, supporting herself on the plinth, also readying herself for another attack. The Sovereign was going for his sword and Iolaus knew his counterpart just wasn't up to any more. Ares had laid the globe gingerly on the ground and clapped three times, the sound echoing through the chamber even as the Sovereign and Nebula both charged the demigod.

The cavern erupted in blinding light, and the roaring sound of furious gods pounded at their ears. Bolts of fire blistered around the space, taking the Sovereign and his consort full in the chest, blasting them back senseless against the walls.

A golden carpet spilled into the cavern, and furious gods lined the chamber, breathing heavily, hatred blazing from their eyes. They'd had time, plenty of it, to decide upon a fitting revenge. The two unconscious rulers of that benighted world were lifted, wafted to the centre of the chamber, even as Aphrodite and Ares pushed Hercules and the Jester off the edges of the shimmering floor covering. Ares called out to Iolaus, "Get out of the cavern!"

Once the three innocents were just inside one of the passages, the gods looked from one to another then raised their hands. Clapping, once, twice, then a third time, the sound echoing off the walls and ceiling like thunder, the golden material snapped together around the unconscious evilmongers, rolling itself back into a sphere in the centre of the cavern. Cupid stepped forward then, picking it up and carrying it to the plinth where he set it suspended in the air. It could hang there for all of the rest of time for all any of them cared.

The Jester was watching, hunched in on himself, one hand pressed against his side, tears in his eyes. Then, he closed them and turned his head away with a sad sigh. It was over. Finally over. He was dying, he knew it…and welcomed it.

But, he mourned nonetheless, though not for himself. He mourned one he'd lost long ago, though his one time best friend had only now been imprisoned, perhaps for good this time. Biting his lip, he tried not to moan in pain, not sure whether it was from the horrible tearing pain in his back, or the unbearable anguish of a shattered heart.

Gods had begun to stream from the chamber, one wall having disappeared to reveal light and the passageway out of the maze. Iolaus, aware of his twin's pain, knowing he was dying, cried out, "For the love of mercy, won't someone help him!"

Aphrodite, the Goddess of Light and Medicine, paused and looked back. Sympathy was written on her face as she waved a hand. She could take away some of the pain…if not all of it. Then, in a flash, she was gone.

Ares, God of Love, was the only one who remained. There was sorrow in his eyes as he gazed at the suffering Jester who slumped against the wall, his head turned away. Ares reached out, gently touching the small man's shoulder, but even he could not heal all that pain, born as it was from love itself.

Hercules looked from the Jester to the golden globe, then back at his own partner, a question in his eyes. Iolaus said quietly, knowing his counterpart couldn't hear him, "I…shared his memories, as well as his body, Herc. There was a time when they were…well, friends, like us." Turning to look at the Jester, the warrior soul murmured, "He loved the bastard. Despite the terrible things…he loved him. Gods, the Sovereign is a vicious, cruel monster…sure didn't deserve…but…Iolaus remembers and mourns the man who could have been decent if he'd ever had a chance."

Hercules swallowed and sighed heavily, looking away. He didn't know how to even begin offering solace to this generous, sorrowing man whose courage and compassion were staggering. Shaking his head, weary of all of it, feeling a vague guilt that it was his double who had wreaked such misery, he straightened. They were finished here. It was time to go.

There was a flash in the centre of the cavern as Ares, God of War, materialized to their surprise…and concern. What was he doing there?

"All right!" thundered the god, incandescent in his righteous glory. "Where's the damned Sovereign?"

Sighing, Hercules replied, "Ares…what are you doing here?"

Rolling his shoulders, looking ready for battle, the god replied, "That blasted exile from the throne of Corinth has been screaming at all of us up on Olympus to move our butts and help you out, little brother. Calling us cowards…I don't like being called a coward. Besides, I was curious. So, where's the action?" As he asked the question, his eyes roamed the cavern…and froze at the sight of the God of Love.

"What in the blazes are you supposed to be?" he roared, appalled.

Smiling benignly, the God of Love struck a coy posture and cooed, "I'm you, honeycake. The God of Luuuvvve!"

"Don't say that!" Ares replied, aghast and horrified. "Don't EVER say that! I swear if I was you, I'd kill myself to end the humiliation! Do you know how fat you…I…YOU look in that ridiculous white stretchy stuff! Ugghhh!" the black leatherclad god shuddered, while the other one looked wounded to his very soul. Twisting around, looking down at himself, he whimpered, "You think so? Do you think so?" Pleading eyes turned to Hercules. A puppy dog that had just been kicked couldn't have looked so mournful.

Hercules grinned as he shook his head. "Relax," he soothed, "He's just jealous."

"JEALOUS!" roared the offended god. "Why I have half a mind to…"

"Ares, you shouldn't leave yourself wide open like that…" Iolaus giggled, rolling his eyes at Hercules. "'Course, with only half a mind he can't really help himself!" he chortled in delight.

"That's it," seethed the God of War. "We're out of here. I told that ranting moron back there to shut up and I'd bring you back, so let's go."

The Jester had looked up at all the shouting, too weary and dispirited to even remember to be afraid of the fearsome Ares. "I'll show you the way back to the cave," he offered, not really wanting to see the last of Hercules, making the encounter last as long as it could.

Hercules looped an arm around his shoulders as he replied, "Thanks…I think that would be a good idea."

The two of them led the way out the illuminated stairwell in the back of the cavern behind the plinth, one Ares seething, the other simpering, and Iolaus giggling uncontrollably whenever he looked at the two of them.

* * *

The Jester accompanied them right through the wall in the back of the courtyard and across the cave inside to where the vortex should have been.

But it was closed, the wall of rock sealing them in.

"Great," muttered Hercules, rolling his eyes in weary disgust. "Now what?"

Ares, God of War, scratched his cheek, disgusted by the whole business. Ares, God of Love, frowned in thought. The two of them reluctantly looked at one another, realizing they'd have to cooperate. Rolling his eyes, the God of War rumbled, "If you'd get out of the way, brother, maybe we could open it up again."

Hercules looked back at Ares and, understanding, moved to the side, gesturing with his hand toward the end of the cave, "Be my guest."

He and Iolaus had moved closer together, Herc's arm around his friend's shoulder, knowing that only here, for a brief space in time, could he touch his partner. Iolaus gazed at his twin, who was standing a little to the side, looking lost and forlorn.

"Come with us," the warrior said, spontaneously, without a moment's thought, but even as he said it, knowing it was the right thing.

"Wwwhat?" stammered the Jester, looking confused. He'd finally been able to see his counterpart, as soon as they'd entered the cave in the void and it made him uncomfortable to know that this courageous warrior was really dead. It was wrong. If either of them had had to die, he knew it would better have been him.

Turning to Hercules, Iolaus urged, "Tell him, Herc. Tell him to come. There's nothing here for him. Nothing but terrible memories. He should have a fresh start…we could help him."

Hercules looked from his partner to the Jester, and nodded thoughtfully. "Iolaus is right. Come with us."

"But…I…I'd just be in the way. I can't ask…" he replied, but there was an unmistakable look of longing in his eyes. He could leave here…never come back? Start a new life? It was…unimaginable.

"You're not asking…we are. Please?" Hercules insisted gently. If there was anything he could do to try to make up for some of the grief his double had caused this loyal, decent soul, he'd do it. Gladly.

The Jester looked from Hercules to Iolaus, who nodded encouragingly. His gaze shifted from them to Ares, God of Love, who was watching him with infinite compassion as he said softly, "Go with them. You deserve some happiness."

Ares, God of War, had had about as much of all this schmaltz as he could take. "Oh, for the love of…!" he exclaimed, disgusted as he lashed out toward the end of the cave with a blinding bolt of lightning. His counterpart immediately joined him and the second bolt, joined with the first, erupted with a blaze of power and opened the swirling void beyond.

"Will you come with us?" demanded Hercules, shouting over the roar of the void, the wind pulling at his hair.

"I…YES!" exclaimed the Jester, who immediately looked taken aback by his own temerity. But, his eyes blazed with hope and gratitude for this gift of a new life…a promise of something infinitely better than anything he'd ever known or dared dream of in his tortured life.

"Well, then, let's GO!" snarled Ares, taking him by the arm, and without a glance to either side, marched them both into the void.

Hercules and Iolaus paused a moment longer, to look back at the God of Love. "Thank you," Hercules called out and the god nodded, understanding it was for having urged the Jester to go with them. With a dignity they'd not seen in him before, Ares straightened and smiled at them as he replied, "No…thank you. Take care of him…he's the best amongst us all."

They turned then, and raced into the howling vortex, heading back to their own world.

Ares watched them go. Watched the void collapse back into itself, leaving him alone in the dim cavern. His eyes were damp, and he swallowed hard. He'd miss that little guy, the one who'd given him hope that there was still some shred of decency left in his benighted world. Breathing out a long sigh, he turned back to his world, determined to remain inspired by the Jester's example and do all he could to bring love back, to help the mortals here find the better way to live…an existence worth more than simply surviving.

An existence worth celebrating with joy, every day.

It was his job. He was the God of Love. And, he'd teach them how to love one another if it killed him.


	4. Hitting the Wall

Chapter Four: Hitting the Wall

Jason held his breath when the unnatural storm blew up and the vortex appeared. Ares had shown up a couple of hours before, eyes flashing with fury, ordering the ex-King to watch his mouth or he'd be sorry. Jason, just as angry, and far more worried, had stood his ground, wanting to know what Ares was going to do to ensure the balance in the universe, or was he just going to stand around giving useless orders? Ares had gritted his teeth as he glowered at Jason, and rolled his eyes, breathing deeply to control his temper. Oh how he wanted to blast this idiot mortal moron away. But, Zeus had been pretty clear when he'd sent Ares to sort out the problem that the simple option wasn't allowed.

"Fine," the god had finally muttered, turning to face the vortex. Just before he leapt into it, he turned to Jason, pointing a finger at him as he shouted, "And you, you just SHUT UP until I get back. Understand?"

Seething, Jason had nodded…and he'd been pacing about ever since, hands on his hips, a scowl on his face, waiting. Ares was not the god he'd have chosen, given the option, to sort this out. The arrogant god was more likely to make things worse…or even align with the Sovereign to take over both worlds. The fact that the vortex had closed again shortly after Ares had disappeared into it didn't make him feel any better. Hercules' philosophy was that prayer was a waste of time and gods only complicated things. Biting his lip, Jason had to wonder if his friend didn't have the right of it.

So, he heaved a breath when the vortex began to swirl, his eyes narrowed as he watched closely, cursing softly when nothing seemed to happen at first. And, then, Ares blew out, his fist securely clamped on the arm of a much smaller man, blond. Jason frowned as their momentum bore them closer.

"By the gods," he murmured on a surprised breath. "Iolaus?" But, then he realized who he was looking at. The pointed hat graced with a pompom and the curled toes of the shoes…it was the Jester. Hercules and Iolaus had told him about Iolaus' twin a couple of years ago. He lowered his head a moment, the force of hope had been so sudden, and strong, the disappointment keen. But, then he looked up, catching hold of the Jester as they came close, holding him up when he stumbled.

The Jester looked up and saw Jason…and blanched. Then remembered this wasn't his Jason. This was all going to take a lot of getting used to.

The ex-king turned to Ares, bellowing over the roar of the wind, "Where are they? Why didn't you bring them back?"

Ares narrowed his eyes at the tone, but held off throwing a lightning bolt, as he shouted back, turning to point at the vortex, "Hold your horses…they're right behind us!"

And, sure enough, Jason saw Hercules tumble out of the swirling void and thought he'd glimpsed the hunter behind the demigod, but then the image of his friend faded. Not sure if he'd been seeing things, Jason had to assume Iolaus was with Hercules…the demigod would never have come back without him. Heaving a sigh of relief, he went to meet his friend as the vortex shrank and closed behind him. Grinning in relief, Jason pounded the demigod's shoulder in welcome. "What happened in there?" he demanded.

"Long story," Hercules replied, clapping him on the shoulder, but he smiled to indicate the news was good. "I'll tell you all about it later."

"Sure you will," Jason grumbled, wishing he could hear Iolaus' version.

Hercules moved forward to join Ares and the Jester, who was standing silently, watching everything, looking like he might bolt at any minute.

Ares rolled his shoulders, glad this bit of nonsense was over. He had better things to do than shut up a raging, aging hero and trip the light fantastic to another world. There were wars to be fought! Hands on his hips, glaring at Jason, his brother, the ridiculous, quivering double of the runt and the runt's ghost, he found he didn't have anything to say to any of them and took off in a flash of smoke.

The Jester jumped a little at Ares' sudden departure, but held his ground. Hercules continued to his side, laying a reassuring hand on his shoulder, as he said, "Welcome to our world! This is Jason, our good friend and my father-in-law. Jason, this is Iolaus. We persuaded him to come back with us."

"Good," Jason replied, nodding, holding out an arm, which the Jester took awkwardly. "I'm glad to meet you."

Swallowing, the Jester tried to smile in response, but he simply looked pale and very, very nervous, as he replied, babbling a little in a voice that made the ex-king's heart ache, "Thank you. It's nice to meet you, too. To know you're a friend…in my world, you used to be…a friend, that is…but there was a lot of trouble years ago, and you left, to become a pirate. I mean, your double left…well, you know what I mean…don't you?"

"Yes," Jason assured him, his eyes kind as he smiled gently. "I understand." He'd heard enough about the other world from Iolaus to have some idea of the ghastly life this version of his old friend had endured. Looking back to Hercules to include him, he continued, "Well…let's head back home, open a large flash of wine, and the two of you can bring me up to date."

Iolaus stood a little to the side, listening, once again feeling completely invisible.

Maybe because he was.

* * *

Hours later, the fire having burned low in the hearth, the wine well consumed along with a fine old cheese and reasonably fresh bread, Jason guided a decidedly tipsy and somewhat more relaxed Jester to his bed. It wasn't as if it was a large cottage however, and the bed was the one Iolaus had always used when he was home, in Hercules' old room.

To his credit, the warrior's soul didn't mind…at least not much. He felt a peculiar sadness again, knowing he'd never need that bed and an odd twist inside that his double now made it his own. It was stupid. This had been his idea, and he was glad to help his counterpart, and he knew it wasn't as if he was being replaced, but…. He shrugged, determined to push the odd, empty feeling away.

Hercules had been watching him, reading his face. "Do you mind?" he asked quietly.

Iolaus started a little, surprised and a bit embarrassed to have been caught out. Throughout the long evening, he'd thrown in a few comments for Hercules to add to the discussion, but the Jester had tensed up each time, looking around the room as if expecting Iolaus to leap into him at any moment. So, to help the guy relax, Iolaus had subsided, drifting back to the role of silent observer. Herc had flashed him a look from time to time, and Jason had included him in some comments, but mostly, it was kinda like he'd hadn't even been there. Truth be told, he'd forgotten for the moment that anyone might be watching him and hadn't been guarding his expression the way he should have.

Turning his gaze to Hercules, he shook his head, "No…not 'mind' exactly. Just feels a little odd. I'll get used to it."

Hercules nodded, wondering to himself if he would ever get used to it. "Feel like going for a walk?"

Iolaus quirked his brows as he straightened from where he'd been leaning against the stonework of the hearth, as he replied, "Sure…but, it's late, Herc. If you just want to turn in, that's okay."

"No," the demigod replied, "no, I feel like getting some air."

They wandered out into the night, and stood a moment gazing up at the glittering sky. Hercules led the way around the barn and out across the field toward the forest beyond, seemingly lost in thought. After they'd walked for about half an hour, they reached a clearing near a stream where they'd often fished as kids and throughout all the years ever since. Settling onto his favourite log, Hercules looked up at Iolaus. "Tell me about him…if you don't mind," he asked. "He's…so jumpy and sad. I don't know what to say to him, how to get him to relax."

Iolaus looked away, wondering if he had the right to violate a confidence that hadn't even been freely given, but taken, when he'd first invaded his twin's body and ended up with all his memories into the bargain. Shaking his head, he decided it couldn't hurt and might help. "I don't know how he survived," he started quietly, moving to sit beside Hercules on the log, leaning forward, his hands clasped between his knees. Studying the ground, he continued, "In his world, Skouros never married his mother…and she was a prostitute. He grew up on the streets, mostly, living by his wits. When they were kids, he and his Hercules were friends, best friends. It's the only thing in his life that's even remotely like mine was. But…Alcmene was crazy…mean, deliberately cruel. She hated her son and let him know it every chance she got. Zeus wasn't absent, though it might have been better if he had been. He played with his son's mind…like losing him in that maze, taunting him, tormenting him, then spoiling him, telling him he was the best, the only one the King of the Gods loved, told him he'd have to be strong to win, no matter what the cost to anyone else. And, the poor kid learned, learned to be as cruel and crazy as his parents were."

Iolaus paused, sitting back to look up at the stars. "Seeing the Sovereign through his eyes, I began to really feel sorry for the guy. He really couldn't help what he became, at least not in the Jes..er…my counterpart's view."

Hercules stiffened, not wanting to accept that, not wanting to think he might have ended up that way if his life had been different. "Everyone has a choice. Your twin managed to hold onto his decency," he said, his voice hard.

"Yeah," Iolaus sighed, closing his eyes, but that didn't help block out the memories he'd acquired. "The Sovereign…well…when his Iolaus left, to find his own way, unable to stomach what was happening, how the demigod was changing, the Sovereign went after him. Iolaus had learned lots of tricks to earn obols, juggling, singing, telling jokes, mimickry. It was the way he learned to survive, being so much…smaller than the other, rougher kids. So, he got work in comedy clubs, made his way north to the Hellespont. Jason was still a friend, then, and checked up on him from time to time, to make sure he was doing okay. In that world, Jase's father wasn't much of a king and he'd lost his throne. Jason had become a merchant seaman, and was doing okay at it, I guess. Anyway, he was there when the Sovereign caught up with Iolaus."

Again, Iolaus paused, frowning, shaking his head. "What happened then?" Hercules prodded.

"Iolaus tried to resist going back. He knew it would be a mistake, that he couldn't trust Hercules anymore, he'd changed too much. He didn't want to see it, see the terrible things he heard his best friend now did, just for amusement. But, the Sovereign wasn't taking no for an answer. He beat him, Herc. Beat him bad. Jason tried to stop him, and gotten pretty badly banged up for his efforts. That's when he turned pirate. To raid the Sovereign's ships, to make him pay the only way he had for becoming a monster. The Sovereign dragged Iolaus back to his palace in chains…told him he had a new job. A job for life. As the personal Jester to the Sovereign of all Greece. He's been beating him ever since, whipping him, torturing him, all the while calling him 'buddy', referring to Iolaus as his 'best friend'…and when he's drunk, his 'only friend'."

The warrior's soul paused, sighing deeply, then continued, "Iolaus thinks he's all mixed up. That somehow, down deep, the Sovereign loves him, but wants to punish him for abandoning him…and keeps punishing him because Iolaus broke the trust between them. Iolaus doesn't hate him, never did. Sometimes he pities the Sovereign. Sometimes, he gets angry, at Zeus and Alcmene for what they did to his Hercules, how they destroyed him. Sometimes he just grieves over the friend he lost and could never seem to find a way to find again. He hoped for a long time that something of his friend would resurface, but he gave up that hope a long time ago." Iolaus paused and looked up into the sky, his voice dropping to a whisper, "Even after all that, he never stopped loving Hercules…it's like Hercules was the only person he ever did love. In that world, I'm not surprised that he held so tight to the only memories he had of happiness and decency. His life has been the worst nightmare, Herc, every single day of it."

Hercules had been unconsciously clenching his fists as the story had unfolded, his anger growing toward the Sovereign. Looking down at his fists, then at Iolaus, he couldn't begin to imagine how his counterpart could have done such terrible things, used his strength so brutally, against the only person who had likely ever loved him. Gods, the man was worse than an animal, worse than the monsters he'd faced in his life. Hercules hated that someone who was his twin could willfully be so wantonly brutal and cruel. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to keep listening, knowing from Iolaus' posture and expression that there was more.

Iolaus brushed a hand over his eyes, knowing he'd be weeping if ghosts could cry. Heaving out a breath, he finished, "He's wanted to die for years, but most desperately after the revolution went bad and everyone else was killed. He was spared because he'd been wounded and presumed dead…waking on the battlefield long after the Empress' warriors had quit the field. Waking up amidst the corpses of all his friends, people who'd trusted and followed him. But…he couldn't kill himself because…because he knew it would kill me, too. So…he forced himself to endure…and condemned himself for a coward, for not having the courage to end it all." Iolaus' voice cracked and he looked away. "He endured all that for me, Herc. When the Sovereign tracked him after I got away, he…you'd never believe what he did to Iolaus. Not once, but every single day since. Gods…for me…."

Turning to his friend, Hercules grated, his voice harsh with his anger, "None of that was your fault."

Shaking his head slowly, Iolaus sighed. "I know that," he replied, crossing his arms, "no more than it's your fault for what the Sovereign did. It's just…freaky to be tied so closely to someone you didn't even know existed, hardly ever thought about even when you did. And…I guess I feel bad that he tried so hard to live, and then I went and died anyway, without a single thought about what it would do to him. It's like I let him down."

"Well, that's a really sensible way to think about it," Hercules chided him gently. "From what he said, I'd guess he was inside that void, just by chance really, when…well…I guess that's why he's still alive. None of the normal rules seem to apply inside that never-never land."

"I guess," Iolaus replied distantly, still thinking about his twin. "We have to give him a chance, Herc. A chance for some kind of happiness. He bought the right to that a long time ago. And…I owe him," he said.

Hercules studied his partner, his own anger slipping away in the face of Iolaus' worry about the Jester. "We will," he promised. "But, he's going to have to help…have to relax a little around us. I'm not going to ignore you just because he gets jumpy every time he remembers you're around."

Iolaus snorted at that. "Give him time. I haven't given him a lot of reason to trust me yet. He'll come around," he said with a certain chagrin.

Hercules nodded, and they slipped into silence for a while, each locked in their own thoughts. Finding himself gazing absently at a leaf, the demigod straightened and stretched a little. "So…you come out here every night when the rest of us are sleeping, and what…practice?"

Iolaus chuckled quietly, "Yeah, I guess you could call it that. I discovered that if I can really focus that I can, I don't know, channel energy or something…and move things. Things bigger than a leaf."

"Things like a stone bench the size and weight of a boulder, and send it flying into a monster serpent," Hercules replied, one brow cocked.

"Uh huh, pretty neat, eh?" Iolaus grinned at him. "And, I'm learning that if I hold the thought, the focus, on myself, I can be a sort of wall, for a moment anyway. It's weird. I can't really explain it."

Hercules studied his friend, noting the pleased grin, understanding what it meant to Iolaus to be able to do something, be able to have some impact. Help. But… "Iolaus…back in the maze, after the trick with the bench, you looked…unsteady. Pale. What was that about?" he asked, concern in his eyes.

His buddy shrugged unconcerned, waving it off. "Oh that? That's nothing. Passes off in a minute or so. I've tried to understand it, but I don't really. I think that as invisible as I am, I must still have some kind of energy, and when I transfer it to do something besides just walk around, well…I can feel it. Happens all the time. Nothing to worry about."

"Uh huh," the demigod replied thoughtfully. 'Happens all the time. Nothing to worry about.' He hoped that was true. But wondered if he shouldn't check with someone who knew a little more about these things.

First chance he got, Hercules resolved that he and Hades were going to have a little chat.

* * *

They discovered the next morning that the Jester was a pretty fair cook…better than fair. Down right great! He'd gotten up early to prowl around the kitchen, feeling diffident but determined to make himself useful. By the time the Jason and Hercules got up, the enticing fragrances of baked bread and sizzling sausages wafted about the cottage. As soon as the other world's Iolaus knew his new friends were awake, he poured out an egg, cream, herb and cheese mixture onto a hot skillet over the flames of the hearth, tossing in some chopped up mushrooms for good measure.

When the two heroes entered the kitchen, he was serving up the delectable breakfast, setting plates on the table he'd covered with a linen cloth he'd found in a cupboard, along with cups of freshly squeezed oranges he'd picked from the orchard out back. Other fruits had also been gathered and filled a basket in the centre of the table.

"Well, now," Jason remarked with a broad grin, rubbing his hands together as he took his place, looking up at the new Iolaus with a twinkle in his eyes, "I guess we'll keep you! The other guy never cooked like this!"

Iolaus snorted from his position leaning on the hearth, unoffended, knowing Jason was pulling his chain as much as he was making the other Iolaus feel wanted and welcomed. "Other guy!" he snorted again, then grinned at Hercules. "He's been up for hours, prowling around, fixing this feast for you guys. I hope you enjoy it!"

Settling in to his own place, Herc raised his cup of juice to salute the chef, and then his invisible friend, before he drank. The Jester looked toward the hearth, an unreadable expression in his eyes, then turned to take his own place. "I just hope everything tastes alright," he murmured, eyes cast down. "It's always tricky using someone else's skillets, to know how they hold the heat…." His voice faltered away.

Hercules smiled warmly as he reached for the bread, to break it apart and share it around. "Still warm," he commented, pleased. "This is great, Iolaus…and if you know enough to appreciate the difference between skillets, something none of us have the skill to worry about, well, you must be as good as any professional cook."

Iolaus drawled from the corner, "Probably a whole lot better, if Falafel is any example."

Hercules grinned in response as he took his first bite and sighed with pleasure, making a kind of chorus of unfeigned delight with Jason. The Jester looked up then, his eyes first hopeful, then pleased.

"That's it…you're the cook," Jason remarked, digging in. "Permanently, as far as I'm concerned."

Smiling tentatively, the Jester bobbed his head, feeling happier than he could ever remember.

* * *

They stayed close to the cottage and the nearby fields and woods for the next couple of weeks. Although they didn't say anything to the Jester, they were all a little afraid of how people would react to him when they first met him. Either they'd think he was the ghost of Iolaus or the demon Dahok returned to take revenge. Neither reaction was likely to reassure the anxious man.

Jason and Hercules took turns heading into town and chatting up neighbours in the area, to explain to them who this Iolaus was, so by the time they finally decided to take the chance of him being seen in town, most people took him in stride. But, just in case, they'd taken the precaution of warning the Jester that some folks, strangers in town for example, traveling merchants and craftsmen, might mistake him.

It was a good thing they'd done so.

They'd been wandering around the market square, the Jester admiring the abundance of goods and foods on display, the peaceful nature of the town and the good-natured teasing between his friends and the strangers he was meeting, when he inadvertently bumped into someone when turning around too quickly.

"Sorry! I'm sorry," the Jester apologized, wincing a little in unconscious reflex, waiting for the kind of reaction he'd've gotten in his own world.

The stranger turned, at first unconcerned, until he saw who'd he'd banged into. Paling to a ghostly gray, his eyes widening, the slightly balding traveling salesman gobbled a bit as he lifted a hand to point at the Jester. "Iolaus?" he finally squeaked, his voice an unlikely mixture of hope and horror.

Stiffening a little, the Jester shook his head quickly. "No…I'm not who you think I am. I just look like him," he explained, his words almost tumbling all over themselves. "Uh…did you know him?"

Blowing out a breath, trying to get his trembling under control, the stranger replied, "Yes…yes I did. Very well, in fact. I'm Hercules' biographer…Salmoneus is the name. My, my, my," he continued patting his heart, "…you gave me quite a start!"

"Sorry," mumbled the Jester, looking around, then pointing, "Hercules is over there."

Turning to follow the gesture, Salmoneus nodded and smiled, "So he is! Excellent! I was hoping I might find him here, visiting Jason…you know, the ex-king of Corinth, Captain of the Argo, the man who led the Argonauts to bring back the Golden Fleece…." He looked back at the uncanny double of Iolaus, to see if the man was impressed that he knew so many important people.

The Jester smiled a little diffidently. "I know…well, at least, I know Jason. I'm staying at his place," he explained.

"Are you?" Salmoneus replied, a look of speculation blossoming in his eyes. "Are you sure you're not Iolaus?" After all, it wouldn't be the first time the warrior came back from the dead. He scented a story here…could make a tidy sum!

"Oh, he's Iolaus, alright," Hercules said from behind his 'biographer'. "Just not the one you mean. The one you remember is over there, with Jason, looking at the swords."

"What? REALLY?" Salmoneus turned to scan the crowd, frowning when he spotted Jason but no Iolaus. "I don't see him…" he muttered.

"No…you can't see him. He's a ghost," Hercules explained, sharing a conspiratorial wink with the Jester as he waited for Sal's reaction.

"A GHOST! You're not serious!" Salmoneus protested, turning to look up at Hercules, partly indignant, partly disbelieving, partly hurt to be teased this way. "That's not nice, Hercules. For a minute there, I really hoped he was back."

Suddenly contrite, Hercules apologized, "I'm sorry…I guess it's a shock. I've gotten used to it. Iolaus helped me defeat Dahok, and then refused to go back to the Other Side. So, we've been traveling together again…" He sighed a little, looking across the busy square at his friend. "It's different, I'll admit. Hard when no one can see or hear him but me. Lonely for him."

"Oh dear," Sal sighed, sympathetic as he again cast his eyes in the direction of Jason. "That's…really very sad, isn't it? Such a fine man…very sad. You must tell me all about it, Hercules, so that I can write the story. Others should know."

Hercules looked down at Sal, appreciating the sympathy, knowing it was genuine…but wondering at the persistent avarice that plagued the man's soul. Sal just couldn't seem to help himself. No matter what it was, so far as Sal was concerned, there was a way to turn it into a profit. But, maybe the idea of writing up this story wasn't such a bad idea, after all. The faster folks learned what had happened, and who this new Iolaus was, the easier it would be on all of them.

The other Iolaus had been watching and listening. His counterpart had helped to defeat the demon he'd heard about? Refused to return to the Other Side? And clearly had been someone this stranger mourned for all his interest in turning the news to his own gain. Well, it wasn't really a surprise, and it made sense of the jumbled memories he'd acquired when they'd merged together. His twin had been a hero, after all. Still was, considering how he'd help defeat the Sovereign and Nebula, even if he had needed a body to do some of it. Someone everyone had admired…for good reason. Not like him.

Hercules held back a sigh at the thoughts he could read so well on that so familiar, yet infinitely strange, face. Well, at least he hadn't twitched and jumped as soon as Iolaus had been mentioned this time. They were making progress. Gathering up his friends, he guided them through the crowd to join Jason and his partner…and to find a tavern.

It would take a while to give Sal all the details he could ever want for his new scroll…and they were bound to get thirsty with all the talking.

* * *

The last they saw of Sal, he was scurrying off to buy a large roll of parchment. Hercules had chuckled and Iolaus had just rolled his eyes. That had been two days ago. They'd done a little fishing since, giving the Jester lots of time to get acclimatized to his new world. But, Iolaus was getting restless. It wasn't that he didn't like hanging around with Jason. Some of his best memories were in that cottage, and in the forests round about.

But, it also reminded him constantly that he wasn't really there anymore. He was trying not to let it get to him. It had only been a few weeks and he knew he had to adjust. He'd chosen this existence, after all. And, he wasn't sorry. It was just so hard to not be able to, well, actually fish. Or have a mug of ale. Or join completely in the conversation, any conversation. He took to roaming more and more alone. It was easier somehow.

That evening he'd gone out during the dinner, lightly grilled fish with panfried zucchini, tomatoes and mushrooms, baked eggplant and crisp white wine, just slipping away when they were all laughing about how the Jester had wrestled with a particularly stubborn fish…only to haul in an old boot. As he tromped over the fields, he reflected that he was glad the Jester seemed to be settling in…then castigated himself for the nickname he'd given his double. Iolaus…his name was Iolaus. He should think of him by his name. 'My name,' he thought. 'My face, my voice….' It was disconcerting, more than he'd thought it would be. Stopping by the lake, near the old fort he and Herc had built from stone when they'd been kids, he tried to distract himself by concentrating on skimming stones across the surface of the water. He was getting better at it, but nothing as good as he'd been before….

Sighing, he sat down on the bank. 'Am I jealous?' he wondered. 'Maybe…' he was honest enough to allow. 'Get over it!' he sternly told himself. 'That poor guy could live another fifty years and not have the life you had…and his memories are a whole lot worse.' Biting his lip, he realized it wasn't just the Jester…Iolaus! It was everything.

And, now, he really was beginning to regret his decision about not going back into his body. The other guy seemed to be able to wander around without people stoning him. And, when Iolaus looked at him, he didn't see Dahok…just the face that used to be his. He rubbed the back of his neck and pushed fingers through his curls. Too late now. Now and forever.

Gods…it was going to be a long time.

"Stop it!" he growled aloud, annoyed with himself, with his despicable self-pity.

"Stop what?" Hercules asked from behind him.

Iolaus jumped and whirled around. "Gods! Don't sneak up on me like that!" he complained.

"What? You're afraid of ghosts?" Hercules teased.

"Maybe…they aren't all nice guys like me, you know," Iolaus griped.

"I know…seems to me we've created a few really nasty ones over the years," his friend replied, taking a seat beside him on the ground. "Stop what?" he asked again.

Iolaus looked up at him, but his eyes fell away and he looked back out over the lake, glimmering rose now as the sun went down. "Nothing important," he mumbled. "How'd you find me?"

The demigod shrugged as he too studied the lake. "I didn't really…just thought you might have come out here. Thought I'd check and got lucky."

"You don't have to chase after me, you know," Iolaus informed him, a little stiffly.

"I know," Hercules replied blandly, cutting his friend a quick sideways look, not missing the signs of tension. "Want to talk about it?"

"Not really…won't change anything," Iolaus replied, pulling his knees up and crossing his arms over them.

"Okay," the demigod replied and sat silently, apparently relaxed, enjoying the evening. But he knew that stance well…the all closed up, 'you can't make me talk' posture and expression. Waiting, he knew Iolaus would talk in his own good time.

Iolaus made a face as he shook his head. It was the 'sure, fine, whatever you want,' silent treatment. But, he knew Herc wouldn't leave until he'd spilled whatever had caused him to virtually sneak away, like he'd been doing too many times lately.

"I'm sorry," he finally sighed. "I don't want to…to give you reason to worry about me. You really don't have to…I'm working on it. I'll…get used to this."

Hercules bowed his head for a moment, nodding slowly. Turning to Iolaus, he asked, "How are you going to get used to it? When?"

Irritated, Iolaus shrugged. "I don't know, give me a century or two. What's the rush?"

"Okay," the demigod replied again. "However long it takes. Whatever I can do to make it easier…"

Growling low in his throat, Iolaus stood to pace, restless, wanting to hit something, touch something.

Frowning, Hercules watched him, wondering what he could do or say. 'Not much,' he decided. "Are you sorry?" he asked, not wanting to, afraid of the answer, but needing to know.

Iolaus stopped pacing to lean against the tree, taking care to not lean through it. It was a good exercise in balance. Just trying to appear 'normal', look 'normal', if only to Hercules, was an effort sometimes. 'Am I sorry? About what? Being dead? Being a ghost? Bringing the Jester back with us?' he wondered just exactly what the question was about, and decided it was probably about all of it.

"No. Yes. Gods, Herc…I don't know," he sighed. "I'm not sorry to be here…not at all. There's no way I'd ever want to go back to Elysium. Not for anything. But…I get tired of being invisible, you know. It's easier just to come out here, sometimes, where I can forget because there's no one out here who can't see me or hear me." Sighing, he shrugged, "I guess I'm not a very good ghost, that's all. But…I'll get used to it, eventually."

"We could leave him here with Jason…it has to be hard on you, seeing him all the time, seeing him do things you can't do…" Hercules murmured.

"Nah…that wouldn't be right," Iolaus replied, skimming another small stone across the lake. "He'd feel like he was imposing on Jason, that he was a burden on us. I don't want him to feel like that. I'll work it out. Don't worry."

"He's not as nervous about you anymore," the demigod observed.

Iolaus smiled at that. "I noticed. I guess he's beginning to trust that I won't just jump in and take him over. Keep reassuring him that I won't do that again." More softly, he added, "Not even knowing how good it felt, to fight like that again, to feel…I'd never do that to him again."

Hercules nodded, looked away over the horizon. 'A century or two…' Iolaus had said. Maybe.

But, somehow, the demigod didn't think a thousand years would be enough. Iolaus needed a body. This half-life wasn't good enough. Not nearly good enough.

Sighing, as he looked up into the darkening sky, he wondered if there was anything he could do about that. Any way he could bargain to make Iolaus whole.

* * *

"Told ya," Ares said, crossing his arms and cutting Zeus a hard look. "It's starting already. Won't be long now before my baby brother comes whining for a favour."

"Hmmm," Zeus reflected, stroking his beard.

"And once good old Hercules realizes his buddy is doing himself no good, pushing his energy reserves to the limit…well…that's when it's going to get really interesting," Ares continued, pushing, knowing he was getting under his father's skin. "I told you…."

"Yes, I remember what you told me," Zeus replied a little testily as he flashed away.

The God of War grinned to himself. The old guy really hated to have to pay attention to mortal affairs, preferred to think things would always work out on their own. Didn't like problems. Didn't like 'interfering'… thought it set a bad example for the rest of them. It was like a free pass…every time Zeus broke one of his own rules, everybody else got the chance to interfere to their hearts' content. Annoyed the hell out the King of the Gods.

Chuckling, amusing himself with various ideas of the kind of 'interference' he'd like to engage in, Ares figured it wouldn't be long now…certainly not so long as a century, however fast one would fly by.

Those two guys just didn't have that kind of patience.

* * *

Iolaus might have thought he'd just slipped away, but for a ghost, his presence wasn't quite as ephemeral as he'd thought. Hercules hadn't been the only one to notice when he was gone. The other two men did as well, though indirectly, it's true. They'd grown accustomed to the way Hercules routinely checked on his buddy, his eyes going to wherever Iolaus was every few minutes and the others almost always knew pretty much where the spirit was at any point in time. So, when Hercules had glanced up, frowned, then looked around, and frowned some more, they didn't need to be told that Iolaus had disappeared again.

Though Hercules didn't say anything, thinking he'd not concern them, he was distracted for the rest of the meal, and when he muttered something about taking a walk as soon as it was over, they almost tripped over one another to say what a good idea that was. But, he was already heading outside and didn't notice.

The Jester and Jason sighed simultaneously…and then Jason chuckled ruefully. "It's odd not to see him and yet know when he isn't there, isn't it?" he asked.

Nodding, the other Iolaus stood and began to clear the table. Getting up to help him, Jason studied the other man thoughtfully. "Does it really bother you so much to have him around?" he asked.

Startled, Iolaus looked around at him. "I didn't know it showed!" he said, mortified.

"Oh yes," Jason assured him. "Not that Hercules minds that much, nor do I suspect does Iolaus. Though, you seem to be getting used to the idea."

Sighing, the Jester filled a large basin with water from the barrel in the kitchen and set the dirty dishes into it. "I…well…it's just that, well, a lot of things, I guess. I feel bad that he's dead. He…well, I could tell from his memories that he's someone I'd respect a lot."

"His memories?" repeated Jason, confused. "How would you know anything about his memories?"

"Well, when they first arrived in my world, a fight broke out with the Sovereign and the Empress almost immediately…and, well, when Iolaus took over my body the first time, I was too terrified to even know who or what had done that to me. But, the second time, I was prepared, and, well, I could sense his memories, his thoughts, feelings. He hates being a ghost, you know. Really hates it." Iolaus explained, washing the plates and setting them on the counter, where Jason picked them up to dry and put away.

"He took over your body? Twice?" Jason exclaimed. "That doesn't sound like Iolaus."

"I know…I could tell he felt badly about it. There wasn't much choice at the time. Once I'd calmed down, I realized that," the Jester allowed. "But, I think he still thinks it bothers me. It doesn't."

"But the fact that he hates being a ghost does bother you, doesn't it?" Jason probed, wanting to understand.

Nodding, Iolaus replied, "Yes, it does. It's not right…not that he's here, I mean. I can understand why he wouldn't go back to your Underworld. It's not right that he's dead at all. Or that being here, can't be, I don't know, really here." 'And I am,' he thought to himself, miserably.

Jason chewed his lip, scratched his cheek as he wondered, "Is part of what bothers you the idea that he might resent that you're alive when he isn't?"

"Yes!" Iolaus snapped, surprising himself with his vehemence, slapping his hands into the water. Not looking at Jason, he admitted, "Why wouldn't that bother him…it bothers me."

"It's not your fault that he's dead…you shouldn't feel guilty for still being alive," Jason murmured quietly.

Turning to face the ex-king, Iolaus blurted, "Why not? Why shouldn't I feel guilty? He was a great man, a hero…helped all kinds of people, killed monsters…why should he be dead and somebody as worthless as me still be alive?" His face was white with strain, his eyes haunted. Looking away, he mumbled, "I wanted to die so badly…I sometimes wonder if just wanting it so much was what got him killed."

"Stop that!" Jason growled, taking the Jester by the arm, forcing the smaller man to look up at him. "Iolaus wouldn't ever want you to think something so ridiculous! That demon Dahok killed him, not your thoughts! Gods...I know enough about what your world was like to know it was Tartarus. Both Hercules and Iolaus can only be glad to have gotten you out of there! Glad that you have a chance for a decent life! Don't blow it by feeling a guilt that's not yours to bear!"

"But…" the Jester tried to object.

"No 'buts'!" Jason commanded, not realizing in his frustration how much he still sounded and acted like the king he once was. "Look, I know it's hard. We all wish he was completely whole. But, he's not. We're lucky to have him back at all. But…don't you see? He's trying to give you the space to get comfortable by giving up what little space he has. For his sake, if not your own, you have got to get over this morbid sense of guilt! It's not right, not for either of you! You're in a new world. You have a chance to have a good life. Take it! Be glad for it…and both of them, me too, for that matter, will only ever be glad for you."

Swallowing, the Jester stared at Jason, then looked away. Breathing heavily, feeling sick that his behaviours had only made things more difficult for his counterpart, he licked his lips and pushed his fingers through his hair. Jason was right…he'd been acting like the fool he'd been for so many years he'd all but forgotten how to be anything else. Damn it! Sighing, he nodded, and straightened his shoulders. Well, that would change as of now. Steeling himself to look Jason in the eye, he said solemnly, "I am glad of it. I've never been happier than I've been these last few weeks. I should have made sure all of you knew how grateful I am."

Shaking his head, Jason smiled at him then. "Don't be grateful," he said gently. "That's not at all necessary. You don't owe any of us anything. Just…just enjoy having this chance. Okay?"

Smiling tentatively in return, the Jester nodded, as he replied, "Okay…I'll try."

Jason snorted, knowing it wasn't easy for the other man to let go of feelings that pretty much defined who he was, and that this was as good as he was going to get. Clapping Iolaus' shoulder, he chuckled, "Well, I guess that'll do for now."

* * *

The summons found them the next day, the messenger having heard Hercules was in Thebes. It was from the Headmaster at the Academy, a man named, Elias, and it indicated the demigod was needed there, urgently. "Well, Jason, this has been fun, but looks like duty calls," Hercules looked again at the note, wondering what could be so urgent at the Academy.

"Hmmm," Jason murmured, then clearly came to a silent decision. "I think I'll tag along. No reason not to, and I'm curious, too." Turning to the Jester, he studied the man thoughtfully, then made another decision. "Iolaus, we'll be traveling fast. You'll be more comfortable if you exchange those boots of yours for old ones in the closet in your room. There're some clothes in there, too, that'll fit you. Not new, but not as heavy in this heat as what you're wearing," he said matter-of-factly.

But, the Jester blanched a bit anyway. Take Iolaus' things? Unconsciously, his gaze turned to the empty wall by the hearth.

"Tell him Jason's right, Herc. Tell him I don't mind," Iolaus said quietly, understanding and appreciating the question in the other man's eyes…the unspoken request for permission to make use of clothes and boots he no longer needed.

Hercules relayed the message, also trying for an easy tone, but he found it hard. The Jester nodded a little, then surprised them all when he asked, still looking at that empty place by the hearth, "Would you come back to the room with me? Show me what you think would be best? If you can toss a stone bench, I guess you can pull out a shirt or a pair of pants."

Iolaus grinned at that, it was a nice courtesy. For an answer, he strode down the hall and pushed open the door to the bedchamber…sharing clothing, giving it away personally was a lot different than feeling as if it was just being taken. When they heard it creak, Jason observed with a chuckle, "Well, get a move on. Sounds like he's waiting for you and we should be going."

With an uncertain smile, the Jester headed down the hall. When he entered the chamber, he found a pair of boots lying on the floor outside the open closet door, a pair of old but sturdy pants piled on the bed and a blue cotton shirt was wafting through the air to join them. "Thanks," muttered the Jester as he sat to pull off his boots with the elaborate curled tips. Exchanging the clothing, he found Jason had been right. Iolaus' fit him perfectly, even down to the worn boots that were a lot more comfortable than his own.

Standing silently for a moment, he looked around the room, not sure now where Iolaus was. "I guess this isn't easy for you, but I want you to know that I appreciate everything…all of it. I wouldn't be here if you hadn't said I should come. And…in case you think I'm still upset about you using me to fight the Empress, well, I'm not. Not at all. In fact, I'm glad there was a way I could help, since I'm not much of a fighter on my own. Don't…don't ever think you make me nervous. I make me nervous. I jump at my own shadow. But, if…uh…well, you need to move in again, if there's a fight or something, you don't need to ask. And…well, if sometimes you just want to be in a body that could as easily be yours…I won't mind."

Bobbing his head, embarrassed, the Jester turned to quickly fold his own clothes and put them away. Then, he headed out to join the others.

Iolaus stood there, stunned by what had just been offered to him, touched beyond words by such sensitive, incredible, generosity. The Jester had to know how much he hated this, more than anyone else could…he must have felt it when Iolaus had moved in the last time. Then, he chuckled a bit, murmuring to himself, "I offer to let you wear my clothes…and you offer to let me wear your body. What a guy."

Looking around, he spotted one of his old, good sized packs in the corner. Hooking it mentally, he dragged it out into the hall behind him and on into the kitchen. The others stared down at it confused as he wafted it up to the table. But, when a small jar of herbs joined it, and then a frying pan, Jason broke out laughing. "Trust you, Iolaus, to remember the food…and to make sure our master chef here has the stuff he needs on the trip!"

* * *

Even moving at a steady clip, it took two days to cross over the hills, and down along the isthmus past Corinth. But, it had been uneventful, no trouble. Until they were within a mile or so of the Academy…and were ambushed by about twenty masked, black garbed men. The attackers knew how to fight, but were no match for the seasoned warriors they'd taken on. Jason and Hercules slipped without thinking into the back to back stance, while Iolaus pulled weapons from their hands, and tripped them into one another. Even the Jester got in a few good licks, swinging his heavy pack with fear-induced desperation.

As fast as it had started, it was over, the bandits melting into the forest on either side of the road.

Blowing out a breath, Jason observed dryly, "Quite a welcoming party…or do you think it was just a coincidence?"

Shaking his head, still watching the forest warily, Hercules replied, "I don't believe in coincidences. We're too close to the Academy. That was a welcoming party, alright."

"More like a 'warning off' party, if you ask me," the Jester mumbled, examining his pack to see if he'd damaged it.

"Around here," Jason replied, looping an arm around the smaller man's shoulders, "that amounts to the same thing! Oh, by the way, Iolaus," he added, looking around, "nice moves. Scared the Tartarus out of them!"

For a moment, he could almost imagine he'd heard the delighted giggle.

* * *

Elias was already packed and ready to go by the time they arrived at the Academy…had been for days. He'd had enough, more than enough of the young turks who lorded over the other students and intimidated the whole staff. Had enough of feeling like a fool, a failure. Enough of being afraid for his life. Those youths were animals, wild and dangerous. He'd expelled them, for all the good it had done. They'd refused to go…had laughed at him! Oh, they might be the sons of wealthy men, spoiled, arrogant, too used to getting their own way…reasons, not excuses for their behaviour. Nothing excused cruelty. Well, it was enough and he was going.

But, he couldn't bring himself to go until there was someone who could deal with this, with them, and protect the other students. He had enough pride left, enough integrity for that. So, he'd sent for Hercules with a grim surge of satisfaction as he imagined how the hero would make short work of these young villains. Having imagined it, he didn't feel the need to stay and watch.

He'd had a watch kept for the hero's approach, and when the young student raced in to tell him the demigod was at the gates, he practically leapt over his desk to run to meet his saviour. Skidding out of the door at the top of the stone steps in the front of the building, he came to an abrupt halt, surprised to see Jason as well…and shocked to his boots to see Iolaus. Could it really be? But, his eyes narrowed as he descended the steps…something was different. The blond warrior wasn't wearing his usual attire, or his sword. And, he moved differently, as if anxious, his darting eyes scanning the grounds, taking in every thing and every one…not least of whom the swaggering youths dressed in black over by the stables.

Bringing his gaze back to Hercules, Elias held out his arms in relieved welcome, drawing the demigod's attention back to him. The tall hero had also been thoughtfully studying the small gang of youths across the yard. "Hercules! Thank the gods you've finally come!" Elias exclaimed. "And, of course, you, too Jason, and Iolaus…."

Turning to face the Headmaster, a man he'd known for years, Hercules frowned at the man's obvious state of near collapse. Deciding explanations about Iolaus could wait for the moment, he nodded, "Elias… what's going on here? What's wrong?"

"What isn't?" muttered the middle-aged man as he turned to lead the way back up to his office. "Come in, I'll explain."

And, explain he did, succinctly with bitterness and self-contempt embroidering his words. "So, that's it," he concluded, reaching for the packed bags in the corner. "I leave you to it, Hercules. I wish you well as the new Headmaster!"

"What?" exclaimed the demigod, not expecting to have it all just dumped into his hands. The problem he could handle…running the school was something else again. "Elias, please…you don't have to leave. This is your place. You're a good Headmaster."

"I was, once. But, I've had enough. I was a decent soldier, not a bad middle of the road officer. And, if I might say so, a good teacher. But, I'm tired…and I know when I'm out of my league. If I'd've been doing my job properly, things here would never have gotten so out of control. I'm sorry, but that's it. Good luck, Hercules," he said, with as much dignity as he could muster. With a nod at Jason and Iolaus, he hefted his bags and walked out without a backward glance.

Hercules blew out a long breath as he pushed harried fingers through his hair and looked at the others. Despite the seriousness of the situation, Jason couldn't resist a grin at Hercules' discomfiture and he wasn't quite fast enough at covering it with his hand. His eyes narrowing, the demigod shook his head. "You think this is funny, Jason? Well…how amusing is this? I may be a warrior, but I have no administrative experience. You have both. Congratulations on your new job!"

"Oh, now wait a minute, Hercules," Jason started to protest, all trace of humour gone.

But, Hercules just held up a hand, staving him off. "I'll help, we'll all help, clean this mess up…but you're in charge. So…what do you want done first?" he said, no room for compromise or even discussion in his tone.

Sighing, Jason looked from the demigod to Iolaus and his eyes sought the place by the window where he knew his other friend was standing. This had not been on his agenda. Teach him to tag along out of boredom with tending a garden and going to town on market day. Setting his jaw, he nodded. Well, so be it. Used to giving orders, willing to sort this out, at least until a proper Headmaster could be found, he turned first to the Iolaus from the other world. "I spotted some very young children out in the yard, younger than were allowed into the Academy when we were here. I want you to round them up, teach them what you can, and keep them safe, out of danger."

Before that Iolaus could react, he was turning back to the one he couldn't see. "And, you, I want you to do our undercover work. Those tough guys by the stable looked like they might well have been the ones who attacked us earlier. Go, listen in and see what you can find out. As soon as you've got something, let Hercules know so he can brief me."

Finally, he turned to look at Hercules, as he said crisply, "And, as for you…you're the new head of combat training and athletics. You will teach them discipline and deal with infractions. Push those spoiled brats until they stop sneaking around and push back. I'm going to go out now, with the rest of you, and read them the riot act, let them know a new regime has just begun. Then, I'm going to meet with the rest of the staff and inspect the place. We'll get together later in the staff mess and discuss what we've all found so far over dinner. Any questions?"

The Jester was regarding him with a kind of awe, never having seen Jason in full commander mode before, and though he didn't have a clue about what he was going to do with a pack of kids, he wasn't about to start asking questions at this point. He'd think of something…Jason expected him to be able to handle this and he was determined not to let his new friend down. Hercules just grinned and gestured to the door, ready to follow his new Headmaster anywhere.

Jason smirked at the teasing expression on Hercules' face, and growled, "Don't push it, buddy," as he turned to lead the way back out to the courtyard.

* * *

Minutes later, Jason was addressing the gathered body of staff and cadets, standing on the top of the steps looking out over all of them, Hercules on his right, Iolaus on his left…and though he couldn't see him, he was pretty sure his spy was already mingling among the insolent youths loitering near the front of the gathered assembly. Hands on his hips, he spoke clearly, his voice carrying with the unmistakable note of a man well used to being obeyed without question.

"Headmaster Elias has been called away on urgent personal business, and does not believe he will be able to return anytime soon. In the meantime, I am assuming his duties. My name is Jason. I think most of you know Hercules, who I've asked to take on responsibility for combat instruction and athletics. And, this is Iolaus, who will take over the teaching of the younger cadets. I expect all of you to work with us in restoring order and discipline to this Academy. This institution has a fine reputation that I intend to see is maintained and that all of you get the education you came here for. This is Cheiron's Academy, and I'm proud to be one of its alumni. He set a standard of excellence second to none…when graduates walked out of those gates, they knew they were the best in Greece…and the rest of Greece knew it, too. I honour his memory, and I expect you to do the same. Together, we'll ensure this Academy will continue to be all that he made it. You have your schedules, you know where you are to be this time of day. See to your duties. Dismissed."

One of the bold young turks called out, his voice dripping with feigned respect bordering on contempt. "Uh, allow me to say, sir, it's an honour to be under your direction. You won't have had a chance to learn this, but some of us have been helping out around here, you know, contributing to the running of the school. You can count us to keep doing that."

Jason returned the youth's arrogant gaze, bristling at the obsequious tone, and his eyes hardened. "Thank you. But, you are here to learn and I expect that to take all of your time and energy. The staff are more than capable of 'running the school'." Looking up at the rest of the gathering, he continued, "You are all equals here, students come to learn, to do your best. I'll have none thinking they enjoy superior privileges. You older boys have a responsibility to set a good example for the rest." Looking back at the youth who had spoken, he concluded, "Don't disappoint me."

With that, he turned and re-entered the building, leaving Hercules and his two Iolausii to their duties. He had his own to see to.

"Wouldn't want to disappoint you, sir," the trouble-maker sneered under his breath, eliciting snickers from his compatriots.

As the others moved briskly away to their classes and the gym, the twenty older students lingered around their leader. "We're not just going to take that, our we?" one whined.

"Don't be an idiot," their leader snorted. "That old guy'll fold just like the other one did. This place is ours."

Iolaus quirked a brow as he observed, "Well, you're either a whole lot braver, or a bigger fool, than I am. I wouldn't mess with Jason when he's in that mood."

But, they didn't hear him, and so they blithely carried on with their muttered oaths of how they had no intention of giving up the control they had exerted over the others for the past month.

As Hercules strode down the steps, he glanced at Iolaus, who nodded succinctly as he shifted a knowing, contemptuous look at the youths. "They're trouble, all right," he affirmed.

Moving in on the bullies, Hercules deliberately stood too close to the ringleader, pushing into the guy's personal sense of turf. "Your name is…?" he asked, his voice cold, his eyes hard.

"Zylas," the youth replied, not backing down. "Sir."

Flicking his eyes at the others, Hercules asked, "And what do your schedules say about where you're supposed to be now?"

"In the gym, sir. We were of course just waiting for you," the kid replied, a tinge of a taunt in his voice.

"Then, let's go," the demigod replied, moving forward, which required the kid to either back down and move aside or stand and be walked over.

The kid backed down.

* * *

Staring out at twenty pairs of wide, very young eyes, Iolaus felt his throat go dry. Desperate, he tried to think about what he should be doing. He'd never spent much time in any classroom but the streets and he didn't have a very high opinion of what he assumed teachers to be. Stuffy and boring. At least, that's what he'd heard a lot of kids complain about back in the days when he'd thought they were all nuts to complain about anything, let alone the good luck of being able to get an education.

Sighing, he supposed he was supposed to be dignified. Not terrified. They were just kids! He was supposed to be the grown-up here. Sighing again, he turned to the slate board behind him and fumbled for a piece of chalk. Straightening his shoulders for all the world as if he were about to go into a battle from which he might never return, he announced to the class, "My name is Iolaus. Today we're going to review the alphabet. Who can tell me the first letter?" The silence droned on as the kids looked at him like he was an idiot and then at one another, some twitching, some pulling at their hair, all with bored looks on their faces. "Okay," he continued, his hands getting sweaty, "I'll get us started. Alpha," he said as he turned to draw the symbol on the board.

Turning back to the group of restless children, he asked, "Now, what word begins with alpha?"

Again they just stared at him and he began to wonder if they spoke Greek or maybe just didn't understand a word he said. Finally, one small girl took pity on him and raised her hand. "Yes!" he blurted, ridiculously grateful.

"Athena," the little tyke said brightly. "And, Bacchus starts with Beta…and…"

"And you already know all this stuff, don't you?" he sighed, defeated.

Solemnly, they all nodded at him. "Great," he muttered. "Okay…how about you tell me what you don't know."

One kid giggled. "How do we know what we don't know?" he asked, shaking his head of riotous black curls.

"Good question…you're pretty smart," Iolaus replied, making a face…and getting a few more laughs. "How about this…what do you see older kids or adults talking about that you don't understand, or doing something that you don't know how to do?

"Buying stuff in the market and you know, getting the right amount of coins back," one called out.

"Uh huh," replied Iolaus, pulling out empty pockets and looking at them woefully, "you know somebody who's got coins?" More giggles.

"Kissing!" a precocious little girl called out and all the guys, including Iolaus, groaned loudly. Giving her a sideways look, he said, "I don't believe that! I don't believe you don't know how to pucker up yer wips," he continued, puckering, "t' gi' yer Mama a kuss! Like dis!" And he gave the back of his hand a resounding smack…much to their collective delight.

"How to be a real soldier!" called out a boy, encouraged to put in his bit.

"A soldier?" Iolaus repeated, scratching his head. So far he was batting 0 for 3. No money, no girlfriend and definitely no soldierly skills. "Well…okay, the first thing every soldier learns to do is march. So, everyone up, on your feet, in a line right behind me…come on!" Benches scraped across the floor as the children bounced up and formed a ragged line. "No, no, not like that!" he chided, throwing back his shoulders, chin up, chest out, back straight, "in a straight line, with a straight back." They all mimicked him, the lads puffing out their chests. He nodded like an upright sergeant major, turned and promptly did a pratfall. They roared, some even clapped. Scrambling up to his feet, he called out in a parade ground voice, "For'ard March!" and he did an exaggerated march, knees coming high, arms swinging, as he led them around the room.

Once he'd used up some of their energy, he hustled them back to their seats. "What else," he asked, eager to see what they'd come up with next. Pleased, he saw more than a dozen hands waving in the air to get his attention, and he knew he had them. Grinning, he didn't even notice he wasn't scared anymore.

* * *

Jason heard a sorry tale of woe from the instructors, one after another, everything from not having the right or enough supplies, to overloaded curriculum responsibilities, to complaints about the older students, who were insolent and even intimidating. He dealt with them in short order, telling them to make a list of what they needed, to set priorities for the courses and to remember they were the adults, and adults didn't let kids get away with mouthing off. "If they give you more trouble than you can handle, send them to me," he directed, "but I expect a report on what you did to maintain order in your own class after I deal with them."

Chastened, encouraged, they each returned to their duties and left him to wander on his own. The place needed some superficial repairs, and a good cleaning up, but there wasn't anything that really worried him until he got to the music room…and found an armory. Flinging out the doors, he froze, shocked at first, then frowning mightily. "No wonder they don't have the proper supplies," he muttered, taking a rough inventory of the extensive and expensive weaponry. The place was stocked well enough to outfit a mercenary brigade, well beyond the needs of a military academy for youth. He'd write Iphicles first thing in the morning and offer his successor a bargain he knew the King of Corinth wouldn't be able to resist.

Ambling back to his office, deep in thought, he realized things had been going wrong here for some time.

Well, they were about to get back on the right track.

* * *

Meanwhile, Hercules was having an amusing time in the gym. It was pretty clear that most of the other students were scared of the blackclad bullies, warily keeping their distance and avoiding eye contact. Choosing to give them enough rope to begin hanging themselves, he paired one of the bullies with one of the others, matching as evenly as he could for size to give the decent kids a fair chance to not be hurt. They'd been trained as warriors and should be able to handle a certain amount of threat and intimidation, else they'd never make warriors.

Once he'd gotten them working out, some with blunted swords, others with staffs, still others wrestling barehanded, he kept watch, catching the cheating moves, and nailing them, one after another. "Fifty pushups!" he called, as he tapped each offender on the shoulder. "NOW."

They began to think he had eyes in the back of his head, calling out infractions that he couldn't possibly have seen with his back turned. They didn't know his partner was also watching and calling out to alert Hercules to those he'd missed.

Zylas was the last to fall, and he didn't take it well. Wheeling on Hercules, he held out his sword, snarling, "Make me."

Hercules rolled his eyes as his hand flashed up to clamp over the youth's wrist, squeezing until the sword clattered to the floor. "Now," the demigod repeated with a dangerously calm voice, "do you really want to take me on? Because, believe me, I'm more than willing and I'll wipe the floor with you. Or…is it fifty pushups?"

He waited, staring into the youth's eyes. "You'll be sorry for this," the kid snapped, trying to regain some measure of pride, knowing everything had stopped and everyone was watching, the silent tension thick around them.

The hero laughed coldly. "I don't think so," he replied, his voice smooth, confident…contemptuous. "On the floor, now."

Zylas steamed a moment more, then dropped, beginning his punishment…which became even more humiliating when Hercules stood over him, counting out loudly, "One…two…three…."

The implication being that he was either too stupid to know how to count to fifty, or was so much a cheat he couldn't be trusted to do what he was told. Or, maybe, it was just to make it all very clear as to who was the new boss in town. The youth's face was an angry, flushed, mask of fury as he fulfilled the command… all the while plotting his revenge.

* * *

"…fifty," Hercules called out, then reached down to haul the youth unceremoniously to his feet. Retaining his grip on the sullen bully, he called out to the rest, "I want those of you who merited the extra exercise to stay, the rest, dismissed."

Though curious, speculating in whispers the dismissed students cleared the hall quickly, leaving silence in their wake. Hercules studied each of the youths, noting the belligerent expressions, the slanted looks that didn't quite meet his eyes…felt their hostility. "Well?" he asked, his voice cold.

"Well what?" snarled Zylas, vainly pulling to free his arm. Gods, the demigod's grip was like a vise.

Hercules shifted his gaze to study the restless, angry youth as if he were an interesting variety of worm. "I'm wondering how stupid you think I am," Hercules replied coldly. And waited.

"Muscle bound freak," someone muttered, but the demigod didn't spot who it was. Didn't really care.

Hercules smiled, but it wasn't pleasant to see, as he looked at each of them in turn. "You know that I know that you were the masked cowards who attacked us earlier today. No one was hurt so I'm willing to let that pass. Those of you who are prepared to return tomorrow, to work honestly to the best of your ability, to learn honour and to find out what real courage is, are welcome to stay. Those of you who are not, pack your bags and get out tonight. Cowards, bullies, liars and cheats have no place in this Academy. Think about it."

With that, he let Zylas loose so suddenly the youth staggered. Without another word or backward glance, the demigod left the gymnasium, the door slamming behind him.

Zylas glared after him while he rubbed his bruised arm absently. "I'll kill you for this," he promised, his voice low and raspy, his face twisted with hate.

"You and whose army?" another jeered. "That's Hercules, you fool. He's invincible. Gods, he even took out Dahok."

Zylas whirled and smashed a fist into the youth's mouth, decking the kid. "Nobody's invincible," he snarled. "We'll pretend to go…but we'll be back, to burn this place to the ground. Nobody throws me out."

"He didn't throw any of us out," another pointed out. Holding up his hands, backing away to a judicious distance from Zylas, who'd turned on him threateningly, he continued, trying to be reasonable, "Look, he set it up so's it'd be our decision. None of us have to go. My father'd whip me half to death if I bailed out of here…I'm not going."

"You'll stay and cow-tow to a mealy-mouthed dogooder, bastard son of a worthless god?" Zylas jeered. "A used-up has-been king and that wreck that's all that's left of the runt? Well, not me. I've got more pride than that."

"Zylas is right," another chimed in. "We don't have to take nothin' from them. This place is ours. Time we took it back."

"Yeah? And how did you propose we do that?" the earlier skeptic challenged, suddenly weary of it all. Lording it over the place when that worthless Elias had been in charge was one thing. Taking on a demigod and a couple of the other most famous heroes in Greece was something else. "Count me out. C'mon 'Tonias, let's get out of here."

The one who's father would whip him, and the last speaker eased away from the group, and not turning their backs on the others, made their way to the door and out into the dusk. The kid who had been decked scampered out behind them.

Zylas looked at a weasel-faced kid, his eyes cold. "Take them out, tonight while they're sleeping, before they blow our plans."

The other kid just nodded, his arms crossed, his stance bored.

Waving them all closer, Zylas grunted, "This is what we're going to do…."

His thumbs hitched in his belt, Iolaus watched and listened, disgust written on his face, his eyes cold. These little monsters were going down.

* * *

Eighteen youths packed their gear, strapped on their weapons and sullenly swaggered out of the Academy gates. Oh, they'd debated staying, brazening it out, but the more lucid minds amongst them prevailed. The demigod would never believe they'd all submit to his authority, and if they stayed he'd be watching them, sticking to them like a burr to a dog. Better to come back in their own good time, with surprise as their ally.

One slipped back under cover of darkness, sneaking around to the dormitory, just about to enter when a large hand lifted him by the scruff of the neck, and a hard fist slammed down on his wrist, the knife he'd been carrying falling to the dust.

The would-be assassin tried to struggle but he was hopelessly outclassed in every category. A light rabbit punch to the jaw silenced him before he could wake any of the sleeping cadets.

When dawn came, and the weasel still hadn't returned, the other delinquents felt their first prick of disquiet.

Surprise was a fickle ally, and she often changed sides.

* * *

Jason reviewed the situation with his senior staff the next morning over breakfast. "So, according to their plans, we have three days," he reviewed, as he broke a roll of bread and picked up a chunk of cheese from the common platter.

The Jester looked up and around, biting his lip, then offered, if tentatively, "They'll change their plan…either come in sooner, or later…"

"Why do you think that?" Hercules asked, agreeing with him, but curious as to how he'd reasoned it out.

Having spent his life around devious and criminal minds, Iolaus had a fair idea of how they worked. "They'll think that guy you caught last night will talk. They'll just assume he'd betray them to save his own skin. So…they'll change the plan."

"I agree," Hercules nodded.

"So do I," Jason concurred. "That means we have to be ready for anything. Hercules, pick out whatever equipment you need from the armory and drill the senior cadets and those from the next class that you think have the best chance of holding their own against these wannabe warlords. It'll do them good to defend their own turf, to defeat those who had intimidated them. Iolaus," he continued, turning to the Jester, "your job is to make sure no harm comes to those children. Plan your route to safety from the classroom should an attack come during the day." Looking toward the far end of the table, he addressed the other Iolaus. "I know from the night that you came for me, Iolaus, that you can cover territory a lot faster than the rest of us. I want you to keep watch around our perimeter and warn us once you see them coming. I'll get the other instructors to organize the younger adolescents into a bucket and sand brigade, to be ready in case of fire. Any questions? No? Good."

As they parted company, the Jester felt an unfamiliar surge of pride that they'd listened to him…that they'd thought he was right and trusted his judgment.

* * *

While Hercules was gathering what he needed from the armory, the Jester was prowling the area around his classroom, trying to decide on the best escape route, the most secure place to take the children. He didn't know how he felt about his particular part in this campaign. He knew he wasn't a warrior, so it made sense to give him a task that involved running and hiding…but what if they were found, and he had to fight to save the children? It wasn't that he was afraid for himself…he was afraid for the children. Scratching the back of his neck as he considered the options, he also figured it might do the kids some good to think they'd done something to help…and in so doing, helped protect themselves. All his life, he'd been running, hiding, afraid. He didn't want these kids to learn that lesson. Being careful was one thing… feeling helpless was another.

The older and more skilled cadets drilled with sober deliberation, not wanting to admit even to themselves that they were afraid. Too young to know any better, they thought heroes were never afraid. They didn't know fear could be as much as an ally as surprise because properly used fear made certain you were as prepared as you could be.

The youngsters too young to fight but too old to hide were organized into bucket brigades and set to work digging and hauling sand to strategic locations in readiness should it be needed. It was hard work, and necessary. Though they'd rather have been getting ready to fight with the older cadets, they knew their efforts could save the Academy. Even if those losers were defeated, the buildings could all burn to the ground if they weren't ready.

Meanwhile, Iolaus had chosen the kitchen as the best shelter. There was a fruit cellar dug into its floor where the children could hide, safe from the raiders and safe from fire. And then, he'd put the children to work. Careful not to scare them, he also wanted to warn them so they wouldn't panic when the attack came. He explained that everyone in the Academy had a role, and they were going to take the bad guys by surprise, they were going to win, but they needed to be ready. Some he had haul clay vessels of water down into the fruit cellar, food and blankets, in case they needed to spend some time down there…like camping out. He reminded them not to forget to take candles down and flint, because it would be dark.

Others he got busy rigging booby-traps. Nets set to spring when tripped in the hallways, dropping from the ceiling. Heavy pots set to fall when intruders rushed unthinking through doorways. He made it seem a game, though a serious one, and the kids put all they had into it, coming up with creative traps and obstacles of their own. Once their preparations were complete, he drilled them over and over on how they would move from the classroom to their refuge, so there'd be no confusion when the time came.

Silent and unseen, Iolaus flitted from one location to another around the perimeter, keeping a close watch, waiting for them to come.

* * *

The first day passed without incident, as did the night, though few slept. Tension built the next morning as the defenders of the Academy waited for attack. Jason hoped it would come sooner rather than later. Waiting was hard. It frayed the nerves, exhausted everyone with lack of sleep. Those kids were too young to know that, and would be restless, wanting action, so he hoped they'd be reckless and attack sooner rather than later.

Few were hungry, picking at the cold lunch of pickles and cheese, bread and fruit. The day wore on, and Jason was beginning to think he might have underestimated the foe, that maybe they were smart enough to wait it out, when one of Hercules' cadets raced into his office.

"Hercules says they're coming!" the youth reported, his eyes anxious, but also fired with a kind of wild excitement.

"Good, we're ready," Jason replied as he stood, grabbing his own sword as he ushered the cadet to the door, following him out. "Return to your post."

"Yes sir!" the kid replied and flashed away, meeting up with one of his buddies who'd just finished warning Iolaus so the little kids could take cover. Youths were stationing themselves near the gate and around the inside of the walls, armed and ready, while their younger comrades took their stations, buckets in hand, either under the shelter of the stable, near the well, or in back, within the stone walls of the dormitory, near the sand they'd stockpiled, teachers ranged with them, to guide, supervise and ensure their safety.

Iolaus' charges were almost to the kitchen when the first flaming arrows soared over the walls, imbedding themselves in some of the roofs, sliding harmlessly off others.

"Idiots," Jason sighed to himself. Most of the roofs were slate and the buildings were stone for the most part. The stable caught, but not much else would burn. "They must have all slept through the classes on strategy and planning assaults," he muttered in disgust, regretting that some if not all of the young fools were likely to die before the day was over.

The attackers might have been young, and lacking in practical experience, but they were highly skilled warriors, the best of the senior class from that single perspective. Most swarmed in the main gate, but some came over the walls, using the force of their numbers to drive their former classmates back before the power of their attack. Smoke from the thatched stable swirled, acrid and heavy, while brave young cadets twisted through and around the combatants with water-filled buckets to douse the flames. Voices rang out, some in anger, some in pain, as the battle progressed…but the young fools really never had a chance.

Iolaus flitted back and forth, deflecting thrown blades, rolling to trip attackers, giving the stalwart Academy defenders an advantage. He was feeling strangely fatigued though, and a little dizzy, had been since before dawn. Shaking it off, he decided it was simply because he'd not done much 'flitting' before, zapping himself from place to place for more than a day and a night without pause, and it must take more energy than he'd thought. He'd worry about it later, rest when the battle was won.

Before long, it was clear that the battle joined at the main gate was virtually over, only a couple of the crazy violent kids left for Hercules to deal with. Piece of cake. But, as he slowed for a moment, and counted heads, Iolaus suddenly realized they were a few bad guys short. Frowning he looked back at the school buildings, then felt a jolt of fear. The kids? Where were the kids?

Snapping himself from place to place, he finally found them, and not a moment too soon. The booby-traps had slowed down the three attackers who'd snuck in the service entrance in the back, and a couple were rubbing their heads in fury at having been battered by kettles and pots. One was still cutting himself out of a net that had scooped him up in the hallway just beyond the kitchen entrance.

But, the two angry bullies had Iolaus cornered. He'd obviously taken a few blows, and his lip and a shallow slash on his left arm were bleeding, his shirt torn, but he stood determined between the two murderous ex-cadets and the trapdoor to the fruit cellar, where the children were currently safe. It was ridiculous, the warrior spirit thought, his twin was trying to hold off swords and daggers with a frying pan! Ridiculous…and impossibly brave.

"Back off, little man. We don't want to hurt the kids…just use them for bargaining power. Walk away and we won't kill you," one taunted, waving his sword.

"Go to Tartarus," the Jester replied, his throat dry, his face pale, clearly afraid but unwilling to abandon the children. His eyes flicked to include the third ex-cadet who'd finally extricated himself from the net he'd been tangled in, and now lined up with his comrades, an ugly serrated blade in his fist.

As his eyes raked the kitchen for ideas on how to intervene, Iolaus snorted, "Yeah, you're some coward alright…."

There wasn't time for a lot of strategy or to consider the various options available to him. The ruffians were lunging to attack, and his twin had no where to go. Iolaus stood on the trap door, near the corner of the kitchen, facing the bloodthirsty youths who had ranged themselves a few feet away from him, closer to the opposite wall. Between them was a solid wooden butcher's block, topped with a marble slab, sculpted to drain away blood when meat was being prepared.

Likely heavier by a good bit than the bench he'd thrown at the entrance at the maze.

But, then, he didn't have to throw it.

Just give it a little shove in the right direction.

When the three youths lunged forward, Iolaus concentrated with the full force of his will, pushing the impossibly heavy slab until it almost flew across the slate floor to crash resoundingly into the far wall, catching and crushing the bad guys in between wood, marble and stone. The agony of it pitched them into instant darkness.

The Jester jumped back, shocked, then realized what must have happened, and who had just saved his life. His eyes skittered around the kitchen, as he whispered a heartfelt, "Thanks."

"Don't mention it," Iolaus mumbled, weakly waving off the gratitude, in his confusion forgetting no one could see or hear him, wondering why everything had suddenly gotten so fuzzy and gray. He swayed for a moment, then crumpled.

* * *

The two remaining attackers knew they had to take out Hercules if they were to have any hope of coming out of this ill-conceived plot with their skins in one piece. One whipped a dagger at the demigod, hoping to end it quickly.

Hercules plucked the deadly bolt from the air, flipped it and threw it back in a single fluid motion, catching the kid in the shoulder, bringing him down.

And that left Zylas.

Recognizing the crazed light in the youth's eyes of one who has lost grip on reason, Hercules waved everyone else back. Jason watched, anxious. Strength was fine, but that young maniac had a sword and looked like he knew how to use it. The cadets and teachers took in a deep breath and held it as they watched in rigid silence.

Laughing, just short of hysteria, Zylas stalked forward, his blade out in front of his body. "So, it's just you and me, eh, Hercules. Good…I told the others you were mine."

"Give it up, Zylas…you can't win this," Hercules warned, his hands out in front of his body, poised, ready.

"No?" taunted the youth. "Why, I've heard that you can bleed like any man…I'm going to take you down."

Lunging forward, he struck for Hercules' gut, but the demigod stepped back and twisted to the side, the blade narrowly missing him. Angry, Zylas whipped it around and back toward the hero, who dropped and rolled under it, sweeping up a sword that was lying in the dust, abandoned in the earlier stages of the battle. Raking it up and back over his head, he blocked the downward sweep of Zylas' blade. The swords clanged together and scraped apart, as Hercules came up and around, his blade balanced and ready. He cocked his head and quirked a brow as he offered again, "Surrender now. I don't want to hurt you."

Snorting, Zylas shook his head. "Everyone knows you never use weapons…you're no swordsman."

Hercules lifted his head a little, his eyes narrowing as he waited for the next attack. When it came, he flicked his wrist, catching the other blade with his own, twisting it violently so that it was pulled from Zylas' hand to fly a little way away until it dropped to the dust. Taking a quick step forward, Hercules laid the tip of his sword against the kid's throat.

"Just because I choose not to use weapons doesn't mean I don't know how," he said quietly. "Be grateful you're still alive."

The frozen tableau of observers broke then, as two cadets came forward at Jason's signal to grab Zylas and bind him. His defeated followers were gathered up and led away to the tack room of the stable, where they could be securely locked up until the authorities could be sent for.

Jason and Hercules stood a moment, watching, glad it was over with minimum bloodshed…and then they came to the same realization at the same time. There weren't enough of them! Hercules cast a quick look around the yard wondering where Iolaus was…not seeing him.

"Gods…" Jason swore at the look of alarm in the demigod's eyes, and then they were both racing for the kitchen, where they knew the children had been hidden.

* * *

Iolaus had quickly reassured the children, but wouldn't let them leave the cellar until he was certain the battle for the Academy was over and won. He looked up in alarm at the heavy pounding of feet down the corridor, but relaxed as soon as he saw it was only Jason and Hercules. "We're alright," he called out, seeing the expressions of concern on their faces.

They slowed as they entered the chamber cautiously, mindful of the booby-traps Iolaus and his kids had set. When they saw the badly battered and unconscious attackers squished against the wall, Jason demanded, "What happened?"

"They were going to use the children as hostages…but Iolaus got here in time and slammed that thing into them just as they were coming at me," the Jester explained.

Hercules' eyes were raking the kitchen. Where was he? The demigod was about to turn away, to search elsewhere, when his eyes dropped and his breath caught. He'd almost missed it…a breath of what looked like a wisp of smoke curled about a foot off the floor…smoke? In here? "Iolaus!" he gasped, lurching forward and falling to his knees.

Jason and the Jester watched, eyes widening in alarm at his tone and the expression on his face as he stared at the floor, his hands reaching out helplessly, as he called again, louder, "IOLAUS! Answer me!"

His partner was gray, and there was no mistaking this time that he'd faded badly, was almost invisible even to Hercules. He lay crumpled, on his side, eyes closed, motionless…and the demigod was terrified. In all the time since Iolaus had been back, he'd never been anything but alert and usually solidly standing on his feet…never like this, so ephemeral, colourless and still.

The other two moved closer, their faces pale with alarm. "What is it, Hercules? What's happened to him?"

"I…I don't know. He's just lying here…and, he's almost faded away," Hercules replied, his voice shaking, his eyes dark with fear as he cut a quick glance up at Jason, then back down at his best friend. "I don't know what to do to help him."

Watching so intently, Hercules saw his friend's eyelids flutter and he relaxed a little when Iolaus' form became fully distinct again. "Iolaus! Wake up!" he called again, feeling like he might collapse himself from relief when his partner muttered, "Wha' happened?"

"You tell me, buddy, come on…that's it…you're okay," Hercules encouraged as Iolaus pulled himself into a sitting position, shaking his head against the persistent dizziness.

"Yeah…yeah, I'm fine," Iolaus reassured him, hearing the fear under the words. "Guess I must'a overdone it a little. Just give me a minute," he asked, his voice still weak as he lowered his spinning head to rest his forehead against the arms crossed over his upraised knees.

"Take all the time you need," the demigod answered, flicking a look of reassurance back up to Jason and his buddy's twin. "He's okay," he breathed with evident relief.

Jason rolled his eyes and blew out the breath he'd been holding. "Remind me to tell him not to scare us like this again," he sighed, relaxing.

The Jester turned to gaze at the heavy butcher's block and he frowned, biting his lip when he wondered about how much saving his life, and the lives of the children had almost cost.

What did it mean when a ghost faded away?

* * *

Later that night, having ordered Iolaus to remain at the Academy to rest, Hercules set out to get a few answers. Iolaus, still feeling odd, fragile somehow, had agreed absently, preoccupied with the strange sense that he wasn't quite there, but was distant, remote, apart from the rest of the world. The aftereffects usually didn't last this long and it made Iolaus a little nervous because he couldn't understand it. But where Iolaus was distracted, Hercules was frankly terrified by what had happened. Determined to find out just how dangerous it was for Iolaus to be doing these things, and what he could do about the aftereffects, the demigod strode out across the rolling fields into the gathering dusk. About half a mile from the school, he stopped in the middle of the field and called out, "Hades! We need to talk!"

Hercules had been prepared to shout all night if he'd needed to, but his uncle appeared almost immediately. "You have to tell him to stop overexerting his energy, Hercules," Hades, his expression grim, said as soon as he'd appeared to the demigod.

"No kidding," Hercules replied with a look of exasperation. "What happened to him today?"

Hades looked away as he licked at his upper lip. Cutting a severe look back at the demigod, he replied, "He almost wiped himself out."

"Wiped…what does that mean?" the Son of Zeus demanded, his voice tight, anxiety flashing in his eyes.

Hades rubbed his brow as if he had a killer headache as he replied, "He'd be gone."

"To the Other Side?" Hercules demanded, not liking the way his uncle was avoiding his eyes.

"No…that's barred to him. Just…gone…out of existence…forever," the God of the Underworld clarified. "So…tell him to cool it…or lose it."

With that, Hades disappeared.

Hercules stared at the spot where his uncle had been for a long time, shaken…sick. Iolaus had almost… gods, it didn't bear thinking about! But, he couldn't stop thinking about it, couldn't stop seeing that image of Iolaus, faded almost to nothing. Stricken to his soul by his uncle's cold, dire warning, he was terrified he'd never be able to get Iolaus to 'cool it', not if his buddy thought he needed to do something to save someone else.

Hercules felt as if the world had shifted around him, the solid ground at his feet crumbling away, leaving him once again at the edge of the chasm of emptiness and unendurable loss. One false step, one wrong move and Iolaus would be gone…

Gods….

* * *

Ares was waiting for Hades when he flashed back to his domain on the Other Side.

"I don't recall having invited you," the irritated god said, brushing past his nephew. Dammit, he didn't want to, but he cared about that stubborn little soul and it sickened him to think that even that last bit of Iolaus, the soul of all he'd been, could just fade away into nothing. Worse, the God of the Underworld believed it would happen, inevitably, because Iolaus had no clue how to act against his nature, how not to render aid to the limits of his power, regardless of the consequences to himself. The last thing Hades needed right now was the questionable pleasure of his sardonic nephew's company.

Smirking, Ares called after him, "I just wondered if you'd be interested in a little wager about how long it'll be before Hercules starts whining for help and Zeus caves in."

Hades paused, his back to the God of War. Disgusted, he flung over his shoulder, "Don't you have a war to fight somewhere?" Then he continued into his private chambers and slammed the door.

Ares laughed.


	5. Heart's Desire

Chapter Five: Heart's Desire

When Hercules returned to the Academy that evening, he found Jason and the Jester lingering by the gates, waiting for him. They hadn't needed to be told that he'd gone off to find out what had happened to Iolaus. They'd have done the same if they'd had any hope of getting an answer from the gods. Jason sucked in a dismayed breath, and the Jester's eyes widened in alarm when they saw how slowly Hercules was moving, his shoulders slumped, as if dazed.

"By the gods, Hercules, what have you learned?" Jason asked, reaching out to grab the demigod's arm when, so distracted he hadn't noticed them, it had appeared as if he might just walk right past them.

Startled, Hercules looked up, his expression unreadable in the dim light cast by the flickering torches on the wall at the entrance to the Academy, his eyes shadowed. Recognizing Jason, he shook his head a little, as if trying to clear it, and looked around, seeing the Jester…but Iolaus was no where in sight. He sighed, wondering how he was going to get Iolaus to pay attention to this new danger.

"Hercules?" Jason pressed when the demigod didn't answer, feeling his anxiety grow.

Swallowing, Hercules looked back at his old friend. "He has to stop using so much of his energy. If he keeps doing what he's been doing…he'll just…be gone. Completely…not to the Other Side. Just…gone."

The Jester looked stricken as he gazed up at the demigod, and then his gaze fell to the ground, trying to take in the magnitude of what Hercules had just told them. Iolaus was spending his soul in his efforts to intervene in the mortal world, spending at a rate that he'd have nothing left…be nothing but a memory.

Jason paled, having to swallow the bile that had risen to the back of his throat. It was bad enough not being able to see Iolaus, or hear him, but at least he knew his friend was there. Looking away, out into the dark countryside, he understood why Hercules looked so devastated. This would be a death more final than the simple loss of the brief span of mortal life. Complete, irrevocable…gone, like the wisps of mist burned away by the sun, scattered by a morning wind.

Rubbing his forehead, Jason wondered how likely it would be that Iolaus would accept this new information quietly and change his ways. He had skills now, skills he'd worked hard to acquire. Skills he took pride and pleasure in. Skills he could use to still help others, to make a difference in this world. To be more than a wraith, silent and unseen. Would he hesitate to use them to help someone in desperate need to simply save his own existence? Had he ever hesitated to use his life at the risk of its loss? Jason pressed his eyes closed, his grip on Hercules' arm tightening.

"You have to tell him, Hercules, you have to make him understand…" Jason murmured, his voice hoarse.

Hercules' gaze shifted to the horizon as he nodded almost imperceptibly, the shadow of a weary, sad twist to his lips as he replied, his voice tight, "I know…but will knowing, understanding be enough to make him put himself first…gods, for once, first and not last?" Turning back to Jason, his eyes glittering a little in the torchlight, he rasped, "You know him, Jason…what do you think? How long before he spends everything he has left? How long before I lose him forever?"

Jason couldn't meet those eyes, couldn't face the inutterable anguish that pooled within them. Shaking his head, he threw a supporting arm around the demigod's shoulder and drew him into the Academy grounds, heading toward their quarters, the Jester following silently behind them.

* * *

It was early the next morning, when Hercules left his sleepless bed to prowl the precincts of the Academy that he came upon his partner, sitting atop the wall, staring out across the valley and its winding river to the forests beyond. Hearing his friend's approach, Iolaus turned, grinning brightly, obviously back to feeling his old self, and called out cheerfully, "Well, you're up early!"

"Uh huh," Hercules replied, running his fingers through his hair, as he looked up at his buddy. "You look like you're doing a lot better today."

"Yep," Iolaus nodded, but his grin had faded a little as he studied the demigod. Hercules looked washed out, like he hadn't slept a wink…worried and uncertain. Feeling a twinge of regret, suspecting he was the cause for the anxiety he could sense in his friend, Iolaus hastened to reassure him, "Told you these spells or whatever they are pass off. Just takes a little time."

Hercules nodded vaguely as he looked away through the gates. "Iolaus…let's take a walk," he suggested, his voice tight.

'Uh oh,' thought Iolaus, even as he called out, "Sure," and hopped down from the wall to land nimbly on his feet. 'Herc really is still worried about yesterday,' he reflected with a mental sigh. 'Here comes the 'I don't think you should do this stuff anymore,' speech.'

The demigod didn't say anything as they ambled across the fields, still damp with dew, until they came to an ancient half crumbled stone wall, where he sat, still silent, still wondering how to say this so that Iolaus would listen, really listen, to him.

Iolaus stood a few feet away, studying him, waiting for what he was sure was coming.

Finally, Hercules sighed and looked over at his friend. "Iolaus, yesterday…"

"I knew it!" Iolaus cut him off. "I knew you were still bothered by that! Herc…it's alright. Don't worry so much."

Hercules raised a hand to stem the flow of words, his face strained. "Just listen for a minute, okay?" he asked.

Rolling his eyes, Iolaus finally nodded and move to sit down on the stone wall. "Okay, I'm listening," he said, trying to be patient.

Looking away from his friend, Hercules leaned forward, his elbows on his thighs, his fingers knit together, his head down. "I asked Hades to explain what…what happened to you that caused you to collapse like that," he began. Iolaus straightened a little, wondering what the god had said to get Hercules so worked up.

"And?" he prompted, curious.

Sitting back, his hands moving to grip the edges of the wall beside him, Hercules turned to face his best friend, his expression somber, contained, but fear flickered in his eyes as he responded, "He said if you don't stop, you'll use all the energy you have left and you will…fade to nothing."

Iolaus frowned at that, annoyed, as he protested, "He promised he wouldn't take me back to the Other Side…"

Lifting a hand, in gesture that curiously resembled a plea for understanding, Hercules replied hoarsely, "Not the Other Side…that's barred to you. He really means 'nothing', Iolaus. There will be literally nothing of you left, anywhere."

"Oh," the soul replied, a little blankly, as he absorbed the information. Looking away, Iolaus swallowed, his throat suddenly feeling very dry, though he knew it was only an illusion.

"Yeah," breathed the demigod, still watching his partner. "Iolaus…I know how important it's been to you, to be able to intervene, do something to make a difference…but, it has to stop."

Iolaus went perfectly still for a moment, then looked around, rolling his shoulders as if suddenly stiff, as if he felt bindings being lashed around him…and then he was up, pacing, needing to move. Turning to face Hercules, he replied, his own voice strained now, "What? I'm just supposed to 'hang around', watch…do nothing? Be nothing?"

"'Nothing' is exactly what you'll be if you keep doing what you've been doing!" Hercules replied, surging to his feet, his anxiety building, his voice rising with a note of desperation. "Dammit, Iolaus…you are not 'nothing' now. Right now, you are here, I can see you, hear you, know you're with me…"

Breaking his gaze away from Hercules, Iolaus stuffed his thumbs into his belt, standing with his shoulders a little hunched, his head turned away. "So…I'll just be your invisible buddy, someone to talk to when there's nobody else around," he muttered, his voice thick with anger and bitterness.

"No, that's not…Iolaus…isn't that why you came back? To be here, with me?" Hercules asked, feeling the desperation grow in his chest. Iolaus wasn't going to stop…oh gods…

Looking back at his best friend, his own face now bleak, Iolaus replied tightly, "Yes, it is…but not long ago, you could have died because I couldn't do anything to help…Herc, I want to do more than just be here. I need to know I can help when you need me to…"

"You do help," the demigod insisted, his voice shaking with sincerity, "You keep me sane! I…you know what happened when…what am I supposed to do if you push so hard that I lose everything that means anything…." His voice cracked, and he looked away, blinking against the moisture that had flooded his eyes.

His face etched by sorrow, Iolaus closed his eyes as he turned away from the pain he could see in his friend, the fear, unable to bear it. But…how could he just stand aside, an observer in every sense? How could he not use what he'd learned if it was needed? Bowing his head, he remembered how much Hercules had suffered in the past year, knowing that would be nothing compared to what would happen if Hades was right. He wondered how could he do that to Hercules…leave him alone, leave his best friend to pay the cost of his pride, his refusal to accept his soul's limits to the point where he utterly destroyed himself. Did he want that? No…Herc was right. He was here because he wanted to be with the demigod, because he knew Hercules needed him. But, gods…to do nothing! To be useless! How could he stand that?

Finally, Iolaus murmured into the heavy silence, "All right, Herc…I'll try."

But the demigod shook his head, swallowing the lump in his throat, as he replied hoarsely, "'Try' isn't good enough, not this time. Iolaus, I need you to promise me that you won't risk everything again. I need you to promise on my life, since yours doesn't seem to mean much to you, on my life, promise me you'll stop pushing the limits, stop using yourself up."

Iolaus turned to gaze into his friend's eyes seeing the soul deep fear and the desperate hope that he would agree. For Hercules…he had to promise or Herc would never let this go. Would never know peace. Feeling trapped, he replied softly, "Okay, Herc…on your life…I promise."

Hercules' eyes closed as he sighed with profound relief, the tension melting out of his rigid muscles, easing from his chest as he whispered, "Thank you."

Iolaus gazed at his best friend with compassion, trying to hold onto the realization that Hercules cared so deeply about what happened to him, to his soul…but looking away, he just felt empty. He'd promised to do nothing…be nothing. Locked into a useless existence for all of eternity. Pressing his lips together, straightening his back, he reminded himself of those first few hours and days, when simply being here had held meaning…being in the world, being with Herc…when it had been enough. Iolaus told himself firmly that it still could be enough…would have to be enough.

"Come on, Herc, we'd best head back. The others will be wondering where you wandered off to," Iolaus said, trying to keep his voice level and light, as if everything was just fine…as if he was as happy about all this as was his best friend.

"Right," Hercules replied, smiling at him with evident relief. "I…well, I told Jason and your twin last night what Hades had said. Made them as sick as it made me to think of what could happen to you. They'll want to know that it's alright…that you've promised not to push the limits again."

Crooking a half-smile at his buddy, Iolaus nodded and turned back toward the Academy. It was nice to know they cared, worried about him. But…could any of them imagine what they were asking of him? Did they have any inkling of how hard this was going to be…how worthless he was going to feel the first time he willfully held himself back from doing what he knew he could do, from saving someone innocent, just to save himself? Ruefully, he guessed they must have had some sense of it…why else would Hercules have demanded such a promise?

Love can be a kind of prison, used to bend one will to another, to constrain the actions of one for the good of the other, for all the best reasons, he reflected. His offer to try to live within its walls, to see if he could stand it without going crazy hadn't been enough. By making the promise, he had just knowingly locked himself inside…and thrown away the key.

* * *

Hades waved a hand to close the window he'd opened on the world of mortals. "This isn't going to work," he reflected, as he turned to regard his brother. Iolaus would grow increasingly miserable, which would make Hercules miserable, which would lead to Hercules retracting his request for the promise, which would allow Iolaus to over-extend himself into nothingness, which would drive Hercules over the edge…and that would make Zeus miserable. And, that wasn't a prospect Hades wanted to think about.

Sometimes, it was Tartarus to be a god and be able to so easily read the future's probabilities.

Zeus stood with his arms crossed, his brow furrowed in thought. "No…it's not, not for long anyway." Sighing, he shook his head as he turned his gaze on Hades, "You've created a fine mess, you do know that, don't you?"

His face tight with frustration, the God of the Underworld protested, "I didn't plan it…it wasn't intentional!"

"No…but by barring him from Elysium, we lose the option of just pulling him back here for his own good. Hercules might not like it, but now that he knows the alternative, he'd visit often and learn to live with it," Zeus replied darkly, not pleased that this particular problem just wouldn't go away.

"Would it have better if I'd just let Dahok have him?" Hades pushed back, crossing his arms as he glared at his brother.

Shaking his head wearily, Zeus acknowledged, "No…it just would have led to the same place only sooner."

Nodding, Hades noted the point he'd scored his own favour. He might have screwed up, but this situation, however messy, was better than the alternative. "So…what are we going to do about it?"

Annoyance flashed across Zeus' face at the 'we'. Hades had created this dilemma, it was his responsibility to sort it out. But, clearly his brother needed to be pointed in the right direction. "'We' are going to do very little, and be seen to do even less. Neither of us need all of Olympus knowing that we've involved ourselves in mortal affairs. I have an idea, though it has its risks, but it's up to you whether you put it into motion."

His brow quirking with interest, Hades pursed his lips and nodded. "All right…let's hear it."

* * *

Over the next two days, Hercules saw very little of Iolaus as the soul sought the solace of the forests during the day and the stables at night, needing to be away from people, needing time to think about what his existence now meant…about the box he was now in. Ironically, he found he felt more comfortable around the animals…they could at least see and hear him. He existed for them, and that brought a measure of comfort, of affirmation that he really was there, and wasn't just a figment of Hercules' imagination. In the stables, the horses would flick their ears at him, and whinny softly, their eyes warm and welcoming when they saw him saunter in. And, in the forests, the animals seemed to sense he was no threat to them, deer edging close, squirrels and rabbits tumbling playfully at his feet. He wondered how it was that they could see him, respond to his voice, the tone if not the words. He wondered if it had something to do with innocence… and if very, very young children might not also be able to sense his presence. The next time he saw a baby, he'd have to see if he could make the child laugh.

When he was around the others, Hercules noticed his air of dejection, as if the brightness had gone out of the world for Iolaus, and he didn't know what to do about it. He found himself hoping for a distraction… but a safe one. Sighing, he wished there was another way…he hated to see Iolaus looking so bravely miserable.

The royal messenger came two days later with the response to Jason's offer to Iphicles. The King of Corinth agreed to purchase the weaponry, at a very gracious price. The ex-king smiled in satisfaction and approval of Iph's generosity. It would be more than enough to meet the needs for supplies, to conduct the repairs and to leave a tidy sum remaining for the future. His son-in-law was a good man.

They loaded up a wagon and the next morning, Hercules and Iolaus climbed up to take the implements of war to Corinth. Hercules wasn't all that happy about transporting weapons, would have destroyed them all if it had been left to him, but he was the one who had put Jason in charge, and now he had to live with it.

Jason looked up at the two of them, Hercules resigned, Iolaus quietly looking forward to seeing more of this strange world, and grinned. "Have a good trip and I'll see you back in a couple of days. Take your time…enjoy the visit with Iph. And…thank him for me, Hercules. I appreciate his generosity."

"I'll do that," Hercules replied, finding a smile of his own. It would be good to see Iph and he knew the shy Iolaus was actually looking forward to the trip. It was great to see the man beginning to relax, to find his balance here.

They rolled into the large city around midafternoon, Iolaus' eyes wide at the evident prosperity and atmosphere of peace. The narrow streets thronged with people going about their business, calling cheerfully to acquaintances, children scampering through the crowds, laughing in their play. The buildings were brightly painted, and, as they drove past the market square, Iolaus could see goods of all kinds were on display…good quality and in abundance. Craftsmen hawked their wares, the scent of foods from the braziers filled the air, flags flapped in the light breeze…he'd never seen such a place of lively wellbeing.

Walking alongside the wagon, Iolaus looked up and enjoyed the expression of near rapture on his twin's face. Salmoneus had made quick work of his scroll and it was already a best-seller apparently, given the number of people who recognized Hercules and realized who his companion must be, calling out a warm "Welcome to our world!" to Iolaus as they drove by. Startled, shy…and very, very pleased, Iolaus blushed and bobbed his head, waving back, sometimes even having the temerity to call back a "Thank you! It's a wonderful world!"

Hercules, too, was pleased at the glow of happiness on his companion's face. He was going to be all right.

As they reached the branch in the thoroughfare that would lead either to the palace or to the docks, Iolaus called up, "Hey, Herc…we should take a short detour and show our friend here the harbour…it'll blow him away!"

Nodding, Hercules turned to regard the other Iolaus and thought a few minutes spent in sightseeing wouldn't hurt. Pulling the reins to the right, he guided the team toward the wharf.

* * *

Iolaus was speechless as they came over the rise and he gazed out over the bustling harbour of Corinth. It looked as though hundreds of ships, merchantmen and military, were anchored in the bay, while smaller craft, fishing skiffs and fast transport ships plied to and from the docks, brightly coloured sails full in the wind, the sea glittering silver and turquoise, the sky wide and open with only a few puffy clouds. He could smell the clean brine in the air, and hear the call of the birds, gulls and albatross, heron and pelicans, and others he couldn't name, dipping and weaving in the air.

The dock accommodated a full fifty ships at a time, and all the slips were full, the wharf teeming with dockworkers, passengers, sailors, merchants, tradesmen, sightseers, fishers, messengers, rich, poor, well dressed and rags, open, excited faces, and others closed, watchful…some speculative. The noise of barrows creaking and horses stamping, of men calling and shouting directions and greetings, muttered oaths and cheerful teasing. Barrels piled high, with crates and boxes everywhere, casks of wine, large fired clay vessels of oil, stockpiles of grain, warehouses of stored goods…all open. All at peace. It was marvelous! Unimaginable for one who had only known terror and the miserly control of wealth and commerce.

Hercules stayed with the wagonload of weapons when it got too congested to go further, while the two Iolausii wandered along the docks, seeing the sights. They'd just come alongside a large privateer when a heavy voice called out for all to hear, "Greetings to all of you good folk here! Today is a glorious day! My wedding day! Come, see, my beautiful bride and wish us well…congratulate me on my good fortune!"

Though the words were fullsome, the voice was grating…proud and malicious. The Jester had heard tones like that before…good words twisted by the foulness of the being who uttered them. He froze and turned to regard the source, if only to be certain of avoiding the speaker in the future. His invisible twin paused at his side, curious to see what all the shouting was about.

They both saw her at the same time, identical faces registering their awed appreciation of her delicate beauty…long blond tresses, wide, clear blue eyes…and both frowned when they read fear and despair in those eyes. The burly, sleazy looking man at her side gripped her arm tightly, holding her close…tightly enough to leave bruises. Her eyes scanned the crowd hopelessly, knowing there was no one there who'd care about her plight, no one to turn to for rescue. She'd brought this on by her own foolish actions and somehow, she'd have to live with it…somehow, though it would drive her mad.

Her gaze alighted on the golden twins, eyes as blue as her own and she caught her breath at their beauty. Frowning, she thought them somehow familiar, but was oddly disconcerted to see two of them. She had a nagging sensation that there should only be one. Though identical, they dressed differently… and there were other differences between them though she had to concentrate to figure out what they were. One seemed confident…and there…he'd just winked at her, though it was clear from his expression he was concerned about her. How strange. That a stranger would notice and care. The other gazed at her with something that looked like awe, a yearning in his eyes that called to her soul. She found herself unconsciously reaching out a hand toward him…but then was pulled roughly back to the world by her 'fiance', who'd not been pleased to see her reaching out to that blond-haired runt on the dock.

Still, she couldn't tear her eyes away from those that held her own and she felt a curious longing in return. Her lips parted, as if she might call out to him, but the man with her turned her around, sharply, and shoved her back into the darkness of the cabin. He shot a look of murderous promise at the man on the dock, then he too disappeared from sight.

The Jester was staggered. In all his life, he'd never seen anyone so beautiful, been drawn to another so profoundly. He'd felt an almost painful recognition, like a burning knife thrust through his heart, or a bolt of lightning from the sky, that left him breathless. But, more than anything else, he was deeply frightened for her…he knew the look he'd seen in her eyes. Hopeless horror. Helpless despair. Trapped…abused. "I have to save her," he breathed, not realizing he'd spoken aloud.

The soul beside him was also shaken, though not quite for the same reasons. Though he, too, was deeply concerned about the young woman and recognized coercion when he saw it…there was something else. He'd winked at her almost unconsciously, a reflexive instinct to flirt and reassure at the same time, to let her know she wasn't completely abandoned, before he realized he was invisible to her. But…she'd registered it, recognized it…saw him!

This was no ordinary woman…and it was clearly no marriage for love. Something was badly wrong here, and if a guy could control a woman who was more than mortal, then he had some mystical power over her and that couldn't be good, either for her or for the rest of the world. When Iolaus heard his twin breathe out his declaration, he nodded tightly, murmuring, "The sooner the better."

Of one accord, though they had no way to communicate, they turned to head back to Hercules.

A few minutes later, the Jester was almost babbling out the story of what they'd seen, desperate to make Hercules understand that they had to save her. A little bemused, overwhelmed by the passionate urgency in the normally diffident man, the demigod looked to his buddy to make some sense of what he was hearing.

"He's right, Herc, we have to do something to help her. But, there's more…she's not mortal, at least not an ordinary mortal. She could see me."

"What?" the demigod exclaimed, his head lifting to look down the busy dock toward the privateer. "See you? But…that's not possible…unless…."

"Unless she's a goddess, or demigoddess. Yeah, I know. Something smells, Herc…and it's not the fish," Iolaus replied grimly.

His counterpart looked from the demigod to the empty space beside him, knowing Iolaus had just shared momentous information…and found he didn't really care what it was so long as it made Hercules help him. Seeing the concerned, engaged look on the demigod's face, he relaxed marginally. Hercules would help. Together, they'd save her from that horrible man who had held her so tightly…save her from a marriage she clearly didn't want.

"Wait here," Hercules directed as he headed down along the dock to get more information about who owned the privateer and the wedding that was supposedly to take place sometime later that day.

It didn't take him long to find out what he needed to know. "Okay," he said briskly on his return, "here it is. The guy's name is Lysocka and he's rumoured to be a pirate, known for his mean streak and his ambition. Nobody knows who the girl is, only that they've never seen her before and that he refers to her as his 'prize'. The wedding is scheduled for sunset."

"What are we going to do," asked the Jester, wringing his hands unconsciously.

"First, we're going to get rid of these weapons," Hercules replied, adding quickly when he saw the Jester was about to protest, "It's alright, there's plenty of time. It's too dangerous to just leave them here untended on the dock. Besides, I saw one of his sentries watching you. They've spotted your interest in this and it's best if they think we've left. I'll explain on the way what we'll do when we get back. C'mon."

The two men climbed up onto the wagon and, as he took the reins, Hercules said to his partner, "Iolaus… you wait here and keep watch…see what else you can overhear about what's going on. We'll be back in a couple of hours."

Nodding, Iolaus turned to stride back down along the dock toward the privateer. 'Well, at least eavesdropping seems to be still on the 'can do' list,' he thought ruefully. Better than nothing.

But, then he paused and started to smile. If she could see him, then maybe she could hear him, too.

* * *

Iolaus grinned insouciantly at the heavily armed sentries guarding the vessel as he strolled past and onto the ship. Heading straight to the upper deck, he entered the cabin into which the pirate and the girl had disappeared earlier. The fact that the door was locked and barred didn't slow him down a bit.

Nautica had been pacing the small chamber, too over-wrought to sit quietly and wait for her fate. She was angry at being held captive, frightened by the prospect of being married to that disgusting oaf, utterly desolate at the risks she'd caused her people…and she couldn't stop thinking about those blue eyes. They haunted her, pushing all else aside. So, when she turned to pace back toward the door and saw those blue eyes, or ones very like them, gazing at her, she jumped and gasped, a hand coming to cover her mouth to hold back a scream of surprise.

Iolaus had his hand up, to reassure her as he whispered, "Shhh! They can't hear me, but they'll hear you if you call out."

"How did you get in here?" she asked, elated to think that rescue might be at hand. "And why can't they hear you?"

"Uh…well, I'm a ghost. They can't see me, either," Iolaus explained with a quizzical expression. "My name is Iolaus and I'm here to figure out how we can get you away from here."

Too much information, too many reactions, crowded into her mind for her to respond sensibly for a moment. "Iolaus? Ghost?" she stammered, as memories cascaded of a half drowned youth who'd tried to save her younger brother years ago…Hercules' friend. She remembered hearing he'd been killed by some demon in another land and had been saddened by the news. Though she'd never actually spoken to him, as he'd been unconscious the whole time she'd been near him, she had saved his life and had held a childish fantasy of one day meeting him again. "There were two of you. I saw…."

Iolaus nodded, "Uh huh, he's my twin, well sort of, look it's a little hard to explain right now. Who are you?"

"Nautica," she replied, "I'm Nautica, Poseidon's daughter."

"Oh boy," Iolaus murmured, unable to keep himself from looking at her decidedly shapely legs. She caught his questioning look and despite the gravity of the situation, grinned wickedly, "Are they alright? I usually have a tail, and well, I wasn't sure I'd gotten them the way they should be when I transformed…."

"Oh…they're fine…great, actually. Nautica? The one who saved my life, right?" he clarified, dragging his eyes back to hers. "I never got a chance to thank you."

She shrugged. It had been a long time ago, an adventure really. The first time she'd had contact with any being outside her own watery world. "You were trying to help my brother…makes us even."

Iolaus had been checking out the chamber, looking for other entries or exits, but there was nothing, not so much as a window. "How did you fall into this guy's clutches?" he asked.

Her face fell and she turned away to sit on the berth. "It was my own fault. I…well, I was tired of the same old thing back home, it was all so…boring and predictable. Then, Poppa decided to do something about it…he was going to marry me to a squid! Well, maybe not a squid, but he might as well have been. That's not what I wanted! I wanted to explore…come to this world, get to see what it was like. But Poppa wouldn't hear of it." She sighed. "So, I thought I'd make him listen, make him give me permission. I…" she hesitated, then blurted it out, "I took the Trident, to bargain with him."

"THE Trident?" Iolaus stammered. "The one that controls the winds and seas, the storms and all the creatures under the waves?"

"Yeah," she murmured, flushing with shame. "I'd brought it to the surface, thinking if I made my stand on the shore, I'd be halfway to what I wanted when Poppa came after me, and I could trade the Trident for his permission to explore. Then, I saw the shadow of the ship above me and I thought I could hitch a ride…you know, get out of the water before my father caught up with me. By the time I surfaced, and realized it was a pirate ship, it was too late to get away. I'd already transformed to this shape…and, the pirates spotted me in the water, captured me…they threw a net over me, hauling me and the Trident onto this ship."

"Where is the Trident now?" Iolaus asked, his eyes again raking the cabin.

"Lysocka has it, the guy who wants to marry me…in his cabin just under this one," she replied miserably. "He plans to use it to rule the seas…and use me to keep Poppa from fighting him for it."

Biting his lip, standing with his hands on his hips, Iolaus gazed absently at her as he thought about the mess she'd created. "Okay," he nodded, "we'll just have to get the Trident as well as you off this ship. How hard can that be?"

"Lysocka has more than forty men, all of them well armed and vicious fighters on this ship…how can you help me, let alone get the Trident back?" she asked, discouraged.

Iolaus grinned as he replied, "I have Hercules."

* * *

By the time Hercules hauled in the reins back at the dock, his companion was in a lather of impatience and nearly frenzied with worry about the girl on the ship. Iolaus was waiting for them, and he cast a pointed glance at the sun, which had sunk perilously low in the west as Hercules pulled up and the two men leapt down from the wagon. "I know, I know," the demigod replied to the unspoken criticism, "we got a little delayed…and I took the time to send a message to Iph, asking for back up in case we need it."

"So long as you're here now," Iolaus cut in. "Look, I found out she's Nautica and the pirate, Lysocka, has the Trident on that ship. He plans to be the new King of the Seas."

"Great," muttered Hercules as they hurried down along the dock. "Where on the ship?"

As they came alongside, and pushed their way through the curious throng who had gathered to see the much heralded wedding, Iolaus pointed out the cabin on the main deck. His counterpart was fairly twitching with impatience and anxiety. Unable to hear the conversation between Hercules and the spirit, he had no idea what was going on or what they were going to do to save that girl.

The wedding party, such as it was, had already gathered, the groom hauling the bride down to the main deck, a priest from Aphrodite's nearby temple having just been hustled aboard. The guests, forty or so surly sailors, had definitely arrived, but then they'd been there to begin with. The main deck of the ship was below the level of the dock, allowing the heroes, and the rest of the spectators, an excellent view of the beginning of the ceremony.

Turning to Hercules, his eyes wide with dismay, the Jester urged, "We have to stop this! What are we going to do?"

Hercules looked around the vessel, the dock, the armed sailors, the crowd and then down at the Jester. "Follow my lead…by the way, her name is Nautica."

"What?" the Jester gaped, wondering what in the world Hercules expected him to do…follow his lead? What lead? Where?

The demigod pushed his way to the front of the crowd, and strode down the gangplank just as the priest began to intone the vows. "Wait," the Son of Zeus called out, drawing the attention of all assembled there.

Lysocka spluttered, furious, as he wheeled on the man who had just so rudely interrupted his wedding, "Who in Tartarus do you think you are?" he demanded, waving at his men to remove the intruder.

"Hercules," the demigod replied…and the crowd gasped, leaning forward eagerly. This show had just started to get very interesting. "You can't marry her…she's already married," he continued, gesturing to Nautica.

"Don't be ridiculous!" Lysocka shouted back, moving to grip her arm firmly. "And I suppose you're claiming that she's your wife," he continued, sarcastically.

"Uh uh," Hercules shook his head as he turned to wave at the Jester who was standing on the dock end of the gangplank. "That's her husband and he's been searching for her ever since you kidnapped her, haven't you, Iolaus?"

"Um…yeah!" the Jester called out, trying to sound brave, his voice wavering a little. "That's my wife, Nautica…I…I love her and I want her back!"

Hercules shrugged at the crowd, as if to say, 'well, there you have it,' then turned to approach the 'happy couple'. Gripping Lysocka's wrist, forcing him to release his hold on Nautica, Hercules murmured, "Go to your husband…and get away from here."

She didn't need to be told twice. Whirling around, she dashed up the gangplank and threw herself into Iolaus' arms, then pulled at him, dragging him back through the crowd, racing along the dock away from the town.

Handicapped by the watching crowd, who cheered the reunion of the estranged couple and immediately closed ranks behind them, blocking the sailors who had tried to follow her, Lysocka lifted fury-filled eyes as he snarled, "You'll pay for this."

Retaining his vice-like grip on the man's sword arm, Hercules scanned the crowd as he replied, "Oh, I don't think that's the way this is going to go." There had to be more than a hundred observers who'd come to see the show and partake of the celebratory meal Lysocka had advertised all throughout the day. They could have cared less about seeing a wedding, virtually all of them unsentimental and minimally romantic dock workers, craftsmen, tradesmen, sailors of other vessels…but the offer of free food was not something to be passed up. In one way or another, all of these people made their living from the sea, and paid homage to Poseidon. They were sturdy, straightforward people who wouldn't take to having their livelihood threatened.

Calling out, Hercules informed them, "This man, Lysocka, is a thief! He has taken possession of Poseidon's Trident for his own purposes." A low growl from the crowd greeted his words. "Will you risk Poseidon's fury? Will you risk the fish disappearing from the sea, or having the seas frozen to ice? Or will you help me recover what belongs to Poseidon?"

There was a frozen moment of stunned silence, and then with a roar of fury the gathered throng pulled knives and cudgels from about their persons and thronged onto the ship, some pouring down the gangplank, others taking the simple expedient of leaping from the dock onto the deck below, pulling down Lysocka's startled sailors as they landed. The brawl was short and sharp, the pirates fighting back, but many only half-heartedly as they, too, feared Poseidon's wrath. Hercules had hauled Lysocka toward the cabin over the stern, kicked down the door of the cabin and shoving the pirate toward two capable looking dockworkers, he strode in.

The Trident was propped unceremoniously in a corner, its golden luminescence filling the dark space with a soft, almost living light. Hercules grabbed it, surprised to find how heavy it was, and to feel the throb of energy within it that reverberated through his body, putting his teeth on edge. Turning, he bore it out of the cabin and back onto the deck, holding it above his head triumphantly…to the resounding cheers of his impromptu gang of enforcers.

Pausing a moment beside the livid pirate, Hercules murmured, "I'd think twice before setting sail again… Poseidon is not known for being a forgiving kind of guy. He values his children and this Trident above all other things, and you tried to take both from him."

Gritting his teeth, his eyes burning with hate, Lysocka simply looked away. He'd find a way to make them pay for this…and glancing up into the shrouds, spotting his lookout, he knew the lad would have a good idea of where that runt had taken his 'prize'. The Trident might be lost, but he'd still have bargaining power with the god if he could get her back.

Hercules had turned away and warmed by the enthusiastic cheers of the crowd, he made his way back up to the dock, and then began to run in the opposite direction taken by his friends. He wanted to get the Trident back to Poseidon and the quickest way was to head to the headlands on the cliffs that curved out and around from the southern arm of the harbour.

And, he wanted to split Lysocka's forces. He was pretty sure the guy would want revenge and hoped at least half of those bloodthirsty pirates would follow him for the prize of the Trident instead of the girl.

* * *

To the rest of the world, it might have seemed that Nautica was leading her husband, as they raced along the dock, darting around obstacles of piled barrels, coiled rope, crates and folks coming and going from the various ships tied up alongside. But, she was following the lead of a spirit only she could see.

Together, they raced past the end of the wharf area, clattering down wooden steps that led to the rocky beach. Iolaus kept leading them on, wanting to put a fair amount of space between them and the pirates who were bound to follow. He was reluctant to lead them into the town where they could too easily end up trapped down a blind alley. Out here, in the countryside, they could at least melt into the forest…and besides, Nautica had to stay near the water to make good her own escape back to where she'd come from.

It was an hour before he let them stop, and by then the dusk was gathering, the waves dark over the sea, but for the eerie phosphorescent effect of the surf. "Wait here," he directed as he turned back to watch for pursuers and to flag down Hercules once the demigod showed up. However, Iolaus didn't expect him anytime soon, knowing his buddy had to take care of the small matter of Poseidon's Trident.

Nautica and the other Iolaus paused to catch their breath, and she leaned on him for support. He trembled at the warmth of her, and unbidden, his arm came up to circle her body, holding her close. She looked up at him, her eyes wide and dancing as she teased, "Well, husband, thank you for coming to rescue me!"

But the look in his eyes drove the laughter from hers. Searching his gaze, again finding it hard to breathe, she stood on her toes to bring her lips to his. It was like a dream, a wonderful, precious dream, with the sound of the crashing surf beside them, a fiery sky above darkening to allow the stars to glitter. The Jester met her lips, feeling as if he was drowning but had no interest in saving himself, and his grip tightened around her as her arms snaked up around his neck, her fingers tangling in the curls they found there.

How long they stood like that, he didn't know. An eternity? A brief flash of time? All he knew was that he had found his heart's desire and never wanted to let her go. It overwhelmed him, and frightened him…and he realized he was behaving as badly as had that pirate, whisking her away and wanting to make her his own. Pulling away, letting his arms fall as if suddenly burned, he turned his head, muttering, "I'm sorry…I've never done anything like that before…I'm sorry."

"I'm not," she sighed, a soft hand on his cheek pulling his face around to hers so that she could look into those amazing eyes…see the ache in them…the ache for her that soothed her own troubled soul. "I feel as if I've been looking for you all my life."

"I had no life until I saw you today," he whispered, the truth of the words filling his heart. "I knew I had to save you from him…somehow." Smiling a little in self-mockery, he continued, "Though…I'm a coward, you know, and saving people isn't something I'm usually very good at."

"You saved me," she replied, stroking his cheek. "And now you're responsible for my life…I belong to you."

"Oh no," he laughed at that, standing back, shaking his head. "You don't owe me anything! I'm just glad to know you're safe now…but…"

Whatever he might have said was lost when Iolaus shouted from down the beach. Nautica's head snapped up and her eyes widened, as she gasped, "They're coming! They've followed us!"

The Jester took one look back over his shoulder and caught the shouts of hunting men, and then he grabbed her hand to race with her farther along the shore.

But, they'd tarried too long, and the revenge seeking pirates gained on them, finally catching them. The Jester yelled to her, "Keep going!" as he turned to face the threat, but she wasn't about to leave him. He fought as he'd never fought before, drawing upon his unclear memories of what Iolaus had done while in his body, upon the memories Iolaus had left behind, kicking out and swinging his fists. But he was unskilled…and they were vicious.

While two of their gang grabbed Nautica and hauled her screaming away, the rest lingered to beat the Jester, catching hold of his arms so that he could no longer fight back. He could hear her screams fading into the distance as the darkness came to claim him.

Iolaus watched the early stages of the uneven battle, sick to his depths at being helpless to intervene. This is what that damned promise meant. This. Having to watch someone beaten and abused, helpless to save themselves while brutal men did whatever they chose. Turning away, wincing at the sound of fists thudding into his twin's body, at the groans of pain, he couldn't just stand and watch, couldn't bear to listen. Nautica's screams cut through his distraction. With a last glance of despairing grief and guilt at his double, he turned to race along the beach, following those who had taken her hostage.

* * *

Hercules had thrown the Trident far out into the sea, where it vanished below the surface with a brilliant flash of light, streaking up into the darkening heavens, then blinking from sight. Nodding decisively, he turned to head back along the path he'd taken, back to find the others and ensure they were all right. He kept a wary watch for pursuers, knowing some must have followed him, so his eyes were up, scanning the rocks to the side and ahead.

Not on the path.

So he didn't see the rope hidden by the shadows…the rope that stretched across the stony path just below knee level.

With a shout of surprise, he went flying headlong, landing hard and knocking the breath from his body, stunned a little by the impact. They swarmed out from behind the rocks, kicking him and pushing him quickly over the edge of the rocky escarpment. Though he scrambled to fight back, to gain a hold on the rocky lip of the cliff, it had all happened too fast…and he felt himself drop, down onto the rocks and the surging sea below

Lysocka stood looking down at his sprawled body, the waves crashing up and over the still form of the demigod. "I told you I'd make you pay," he muttered with grim satisfaction. Then he turned away to lead the remainder of his force back past the wharf to unslip their ship and sail up the coast…to take back his 'prize'.

* * *

Iolaus found the Jester sprawled unconscious on the stony shore, the rising tide lapping at his feet, his face bloody and bruised, dark in the shadows of the deepening dusk. Dropping to his knees beside the man, Iolaus reached out, wishing he could touch, see how badly his friend was hurt, but he couldn't. All he could do was wait.

It seemed hours later when he was vastly relieved when his twin finally moaned and rolled over, more into the water, which roused him further.

"I'm sorry," Iolaus whispered, knowing the Jester couldn't hear him, but having to say it.

Struggling to sit up, one hand holding his aching head, the beaten man looked around dazedly, with a sense of sinking despair. He hadn't been able to save her. They'd taken her away.

He'd failed…again. Only this time, he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to recover. Oh, it wasn't the beating. He'd known worse at the hands of the Sovereign. Gods…what they'd do to her!

There had to be something he could do…he couldn't just let this happen! If it killed him, he had to find a way to help her, make her safe! Turning, staring desperately into the night, he called out, "Iolaus! Are you here? Gods, please be here! Take my body! Use it…find her!"

Whether or not this came under the heading of 'can't do anymore,' Iolaus couldn't resist that plea from the depths of his twin's soul. He didn't know where Hercules was, and was worried. The demigod should have caught up with them a long time ago and Iolaus had been as afraid for the demigod as he waited by the Jester as he was for his double. Ruthlessly, he pushed that fear aside, telling himself Hercules knew how to take care of himself, would be fine, was just delayed. It was up to them to save the girl…he'd do as much as he could, without thoroughly compromising his promise to Hercules, to help the Jester do just that.

Rising from his knees, he stepped forward and into the Jester's body, and the man almost sobbed with relief to know he had the help he needed. Inside the zone of his mind, he faced Iolaus and pleaded, "Teach me, teach me how to fight them! I have your memories…some idea…but I don't know how to put it together. I have to save her!"

'Well, that I can do,' Iolaus thought, remembering the previous experiences had never left any side effects. "Alright," he replied, "but we have to be quick…they're holding her in a boat repair barn about a mile from here."

Working quickly, he helped the Jester sort through the memories of moves and battles, showing him how to make use of whatever came to hand, how to keep moving, rolling and tumbling, using the skills he already had, how to use the force and size of another against them. While they sorted, they got their shared body moving, heading down along the beach.

Slowing as they came closer to the wooden structure a few yards up from the waterline, they dropped behind some rocks. There were sentries posted, but they weren't keeping an alert watch. Within the halls of his mind, the Jester turned to Iolaus. "You have to go now…you made Hercules a promise. And…and I have to do this myself."

Iolaus gazed back at his twin, then reluctantly nodded. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "Back there…I wanted to help but…."

"I know," the Jester assured him. "I don't want you destroying yourself any more than does Hercules. He needs you…and I…I need to know that you're all right. I'd never have forgiven myself if helping me again, saving my life, burned away your soul. Whatever happens, Iolaus…thank you. Thank you for giving me a chance at a new life."

Iolaus lingered a moment more, his attention back on the sentries, and the light breaking in the east. "You need to move quickly, silently…sneak up behind them, hit them with a rock and catch them when they fall so that it doesn't make a sound. There were about seven of them with her inside, and they'd tied her to a work bench in the middle of the area. There're coils of rope, various metal tools scattered about…use them, use whatever comes to hand. And keep moving." Turning back to the Jester he whispered, "Good luck."

And, then he stepped back out of the body, leaving the Jester to save the woman Iolaus now knew the man loved with all his heart and soul.

He might have argued the point, might have chosen to stay in the body, forced the Jester to accept his help. But, his twin was right. This was something he had to do himself.

To save Nautica…and to find his own strength, his own confidence in his capacity to fight and win for something or someone who meant the world to him…or die trying.

The fact that it nearly killed Iolaus to just stand back and watch didn't bear thinking about.

* * *

Hercules tasted salt on his lips as he struggled back to consciousness. He was lying on a rough hard surface, and felt like mush…and very, very wet he realized as another wave cascaded over him. Moaning, he pushed himself to his knees, shaking his head to clear it.

"Well…it's about time," growled a deep voice from somewhere behind him.

"Right," he sighed, feeling as if ten thousand drummers were using his head for practice as he flopped over to sit with his knees raised and one hand kneading the back of his neck. Looking up, he noticed Poseidon had retrieved his Trident. His uncle had appeared as a slightly larger than average giant and was sitting on a boulder a few feet away, scowling at him.

"Well, are you just going to sit there?" the god demanded. "My daughter is in need of rescuing."

Wincing a little as he came to his feet, Hercules squinted up at the god as he replied, "Why don't you save her yourself?"

Huffing a little, Poseidon looked off across the sea, toward the glow beginning to rise in the east. "She stole my Trident and ran away…she needs to learn a lesson. How would it look if I just chased after her to save her from her own idiocy? Time she grew up, took responsibility for herself…." Changing the subject, which was all too obviously only making him feel uncomfortable, the God of the Seas observed, "Oh, good threats by the way, to get those folks to help you…freezing the sea, I liked that one, sounded like something I'd do..."

"Yeah, yeah," Hercules cut in, as he turned to scan the cliff above him, looking for handholds.

"Not that way," Poseidon advised him, as he too stood. "The filthy pirates have taken their ship up along the coast to meet with the gang who took Nautica away from your friend the clown…"

"Is he all right?" Hercules demanded, suddenly concerned as he whirled back to face the god. He knew Nautica must be alright or Poseidon would have already torn the fools apart and they wouldn't be having this conversation.

"Relax, that kid bounces back from a beating like a ball off a wall, he's fine…but he's going to try to take them all on by himself which suggests he's not very bright, not unlike his twin when I think about it," Poseidon replied caustically, waving off the demigod's concern. "The fact remains that there are too many, or shortly will be, for him to handle by himself. Your friendly ghost is doing his best to live by his promise to you…but he's not happy about it, I'll tell you that."

Hercules rolled his eyes, again turning to the cliff, anxious to be on his way. Iolaus had a limited amount of patience at best and the promise would likely be cast to the winds if his buddy thought he had no choice but to help his twin and Nautica. There was no time to lose.

"I said, not that way," Poseidon continued, reaching to scoop the demigod into one massive fist. "Come along…I'll give you a lift."

Startled, Hercules only had time to take a deep breath before they'd plunged into the sea.

* * *

The Jester took a deep breath and set out to become a hero, though he didn't think of it like that. All he could think about was the danger Nautica was in, and that he had to save her. Picking up a rock that fit nicely into his hand, he circled around to get behind the first sentry at the back of the building. Moving quietly, light on his feet, he moved in through the shadows and soundly wrapped the pirate on the back of the head, remembering to catch the fellow before he collapsed to ease him to the ground. Then, he slipped around the side of the building, again keeping in its shadow until he could peek around it at the sentry at the front. Waiting until the man had begun to stroll to the far side, the Jester again moved forward as silent as the shadows that had hidden him, taking the pirate by surprise and leaving his body on the far side of the building.

The sun had just come up over the horizon, blazing a golden path straight to the closed door of the building. Taking a deep breath, he shoved the doors open and dashed inside, his eyes darting to take in the occupants and to locate the implements Iolaus had said he might make use of in rescuing Nautica.

She was tied wrists and ankles to a worktable in the centre of the building and her head came up at the sound of the doors crashing open, her eyes widening when she saw him outlined by the sun, as if etched by gold. He cut a quick glance at her, to ensure she was all right, and the sight of the bruise on her cheek inflamed him. Almost blind with fury, he kicked out at the first pirate that came at him, catching the villain solidly in the chest and driving him backward to bang his head sharply on the far wall, where he sank to the ground. Two more were coming at him, and he rolled, to knock them off their feet, coming back up quickly, a loop of coiled rope in his hands. Lashing out, he caught one across the head and shoulders, knocking him into the other as the second tried to stand. Both went flying, one connecting with the solid wood base of the work table Nautica was tied to, and Iolaus clipped the other as hard as he could with the edge of his hand on the back of the pirate's neck, dropping him to the filthy earthen floor.

By then, the other four, who had been drowsing, had come fully awake and were edging toward him from the back of the barnlike structure. 'Keep moving,' he chanted to himself, 'Iolaus said to keep moving!' So, he fought his tendency to freeze in confusion, and using one hand for leverage, he leapt over Nautica, striking out with his feet at the nearest man, sending him backward into another. Dropping to the other side of the table, he cartwheeled to the far wall and pulled a long iron implement from the wall. Already swinging it as he turned, he caught one pirate solidly across the face and another hard on his shoulder… there was an audible crack and scream as the bone broke.

Two left standing, circling at him from either end of the table she was tied to…he cartwheeled again, one handed, still gripping the iron rod, and came up close to the other man, clipping him soundly on the side of the head, dropping him in his tracks. The last man circled, a knife in his hand, wary of this human dynamo who never seemed to stay in one place long enough to catch. Not knowing what else to do, Iolaus yelled as he charged the man, startling him, and then stopping just out of reach, he whirled and swung the iron to crash against the man's wrist, sending the knife flying and the pirate to his knees, holding his shattered wrist as he cursed in pain.

Iolaus stopped moving, stunned, as he looked around and realized he was the only one left standing. Breathing heavily, he grabbed up the knife and his eyes raking the crumpled bodies, ensuring they were all staying down, as he turned and quickly cut the ropes that bound her, then scooped her off the table into his arms. She looped her arms around his neck and held onto him, her head cradled against his neck as he carried her quickly into the sunlight.

"You saved me!" she whispered, and to his amazement, he realized he had. Smiling then, for the first time since they'd taken her from him, he set her gently on the ground and hugged her tight, never wanting to let her go. It was only then, when he looked up toward the water, that he saw the other ship drop its anchor and a small skiff over the side, loaded with more pirates.

"Oh great," he muttered, pushing her a little away. "It's not over yet." Turning to her, he said urgently, "I want you to hide…and don't let any of them find you! I'll try to slow these guys down, keep them from coming after you."

"But," she protested, now also seeing the ship and the villains drawing close to shore. "There are too many…they'll kill you."

"Don't worry about me! Just go!" he urged, pushing her back toward the forest even as he turned to face them.

Slowly, torn, she backed toward the trees. Just then, they heard a shout and turned to see Hercules racing toward them along the beach, moving to meet the skiff as it drew ever closer. A second skiff was putting out from the pirate vessel…and then, from around the point, appeared another ship, flying the colours of the King of Corinth.

They could hear shouting from the ship, confused, panicked…and the second skiff turned back. If they weighed anchor, they might have a chance to fight off the marines.

Lysocka, in the first skiff, was furious. All his plans were crumbling. The demigod, who he'd thought he'd killed was here before him. And he could see the girl disappear into the shadows of the forest. Cursing, he urged his men forward. The only chance now was to fight the demigod and that ridiculous runt who was running to join him on the shore and track the girl. With her, he could still bargain.

But, the pirates were at a distinct disadvantage. They needed to wade through the heavy surf, while the heroes held the beach, and the military vessel fired on their own ship, holing it just above the waterline…it was a rout. Hercules took Lysocka, not worrying about finesse, simply straight-arm punching him solidly in the face, snapping his head back even as he staggered to the shore, dropping him into the surf. While Iolaus spun and kicked, leaping up onto one guy's shoulders and pounding him with both hands, rolling back to kick out at another, Hercules smashed and threw others hard into the sand and surf.

It was over in minutes, the residue of the pirate forces surrendering before they were utterly demolished. Iphicles' forces took possession of the pirate vessel, while several rowed ashore to round up the beaten pirates on the sand and in the building.

Hercules waved when he spotted his brother in the boat heading to shore, grinning broadly. Then he turned to the Jester, who looked battered but triumphant. Clapping the smaller man on the shoulder, the demigod said with a warm grin, "See…I told you you were a hero!"

Wordless with emotion, scarcely able to believe what he'd just accomplished, the Jester looked up at his friend and nodded, his eyes glowing with joy.

"Iolaus!" they heard her call and turned to see Nautica racing across the sand to fling herself into her hero's arms, kissing him soundly…almost knocking him over. He hugged her tight and kissed her right back, while Hercules watched, his brows ascending under his bangs as he gazed at them with a look of bemused surprise. He turned when he heard the familiar ripple of sound, the delighted giggle that never failed to warm his own heart.

Iolaus was sauntering down the beach toward them, shaking his head. "It must be magic, Herc. Even when it's not really me, I get the girl!" he teased.

"Well, this was fast work, even for you…what happened?" Hercules asked, turning back to look at the couple who were oblivious to everyone and everything around them.

"Love happened," Iolaus replied softly, gazing with delight at his twin and his lady. "He really loves her, Herc, more than he thought would ever be possible. He'd die for her…didn't think twice about taking on nine guys back there and all of them in that ship if that's what it took to keep her safe. And, you know, I think she loves him, too."

"But…does he know she's not mortal? That she belongs in the sea?" Hercules asked, his eyes darkening with concern. Gods…he didn't want to be the one to tell the Jester that this relationship was hopeless.

"No…he doesn't have a clue who she is. She could be a peasant for all he knows. He doesn't care," Iolaus replied, frowning himself now that he considered the complications. "There must be something we can do…er…that you can do. What about 'Dite? Maybe she could help."

Hercules turned back to consider the couple…and decided this was worth asking a favour of his sister. "Iolaus, suggest they go for a walk or something while I meet Iph, get these goons dealt with and talk to Aphrodite. Ask them to give me an hour," he said quietly, then moved to meet his brother who was just wading to shore.

Hercules greeted Iphicles, who was staring at the couple kissing a few feet away. "Iolaus?" he whispered, hope in his eyes.

"Well, yes and no. It's the Iolaus from the Sovereign's world…and that's Nautica, Poseidon's daughter," Hercules explained.

Disappointment flooded his brother's eyes, only to be replaced by amazement, "Poseidon's daughter?" he stammered.

"Uh huh…while your men are rounding up the bad guys, I'll explain it to you…and by, the way, thanks for responding to the message I left yesterday afternoon," Hercules replied.

Iphicles smiled at that. "No problem," he assured the demigod. "Gave me an excuse to get away from the palace for a while. We anchored just outside the harbour and watched for the ship…followed them here. I've been looking for an excuse to take Lysocka in for years. Glad to help."

Iolaus sauntered over to his twin and Nautica, ostentatiously clearing his throat to get her attention. Reluctantly, she opened an eye and looked at him, then pulled back a little in the Jester's embrace, a brow quirked in question, as much as saying that the interruption had better be worth it.

Iolaus grinned as he relayed the message. "Hercules suggests the two of you go for a walk, for an hour maybe, while he clears things up here. I think you guys might have some things you need to say to one another…like maybe, where each of you come from?"

"Oh…yes," she replied, a little distracted as she returned her gaze to those incredible blue eyes that held her soul captive. "Let's…let's go for a walk along the beach, all right?"

"Sure," he nodded, feeling confused and not caring. Whatever she wanted to do was fine with him.

They set off, hand in hand, heads close together, golden in the new morning's light.

* * *

"I love you," she whispered, then floundered, not knowing how to explain who she was…or what it meant. She only knew she never wanted to leave him, not ever.

"I love you, too," he murmured, surprised with the ease with which he was able to make the declaration. How it seemed to simplify everything in his life, give him purpose and focus. Whatever it took, he'd find a way to care for her.

But, she seemed…unhappy, and that bothered him. There was something here he didn't understand. Stooping to pick up some stones, he began to juggle as if absently, while he began to tell her who he was, where he was from, but it was deliberate, to distract her, to share something of himself…to bring a smile back to her face and eyes.

Her attention caught, delighted by his skill, she grinned in amazement…and then registered what he was telling her, explaining what had been meant yesterday in the cabin when Iolaus had said this man was his twin, 'sort of'. He tried not to belabor the horror, but she heard past the words, the tones of self-mockery, saw the shadows in his eyes when he didn't look at her directly.

"You've suffered," she murmured, empathy softening her expression. More than ever, all she wanted was to make him happy for the rest of his life.

"Everyone suffers," he shrugged as he let the stones fall, "maybe you need to experience suffering to really know true happiness…to know how precious it is." Then, turning to her, he said, "It doesn't matter to me who you are, or where you're from…but, I'm interested. I want to know everything about you, if you'll tell me."

"Oh, Iolaus…I don't know how to tell you…I…I'm from another world, too, but…my world is the sea," she said hesitantly, casting a look at the rolling surf. "My father is Poseidon, God of the Sea…."

"Poseidon…oh," he echoed, shock and then dismay in his eyes. A peasant he could aspire to love. A goddess? It was impossible. "I didn't know," he mumbled, turning away. "I'm sorry…I shouldn't have…"

"What?" she exclaimed as she grabbed his arm and pulled him back to face her. "What shouldn't you have done? Saved my life? At terrible odds and danger to yourself?"

"NO!" he protested. "That's not what I meant!"

"What then?" she persisted. "That you shouldn't love me? Why? Aren't I good enough?"

Sighing, he shook his head as he took her hands in his own. Quietly, he replied, "You know that's not true. It's me who's not good enough…would never be good enough for you."

"Don't you think that's up to me to decide?" she replied archly, then relented, tears in her eyes. "I love you. It's sudden, I know, and probably a little crazy, but I know it's real! I never want to be parted from you…I don't know how I'll find a way…but I will. I'll find a way to live in this world…with you."

He found he had to blink his own eyes and swallow against the fullness in his chest. "I can't ask you…"

"I'm asking you," she cut in. "I know I'm useless…haven't a clue how to cook…"

"I know how to cook," he rejoined, trying to grin but failing, "but, that's not the point."

"Sure it is! Good, so it's settled!" she decided, nodding decisively. "You're my hero, my love, my life…I won't let you go."

Overwhelmed, his eyes glittering with tears, he felt only pain at the knowledge that, no matter how much they each might want this, to be together, it was hopeless. Sighing as he took her into his arms, "Oh, Nautica…we can't do this…it's impossible, don't you see." While all the while, his soul was crying out, 'I love you…I have no life without you.'

"Why?" she demanded, pulling away. "Why does it have to be impossible?"

Holding her hand, his face bleak with hopelessness, he murmured, "Nautica…think about it. You're a goddess, of the sea. I'm…well…a mortal, a wanderer from another world, but a land world. I can't live in your world, and you can't live in mine. Even if you could, and would, give up your whole life to live out of the sea, it wouldn't be right. Can't you see…we don't belong together. We'd only ending up hurting each other…and I couldn't bear to ever hurt you."

The harshness of reality crashed into the sweetness and yearning she felt…and she knew he was right. Her eyes filled with tears and her face crumpled as she leaned into him. "I…I don't want to leave you," she sobbed. "I know I'll never love anyone again like I love you…I feel like you're a part of me, somehow."

"I know," he whispered, tears brimming in his own eyes. "I'll remember you all my life…and be glad that I had the chance to know you, to feel your love…and to know I love you. I…I never hoped anyone as wonderful as you would ever care for me. Forever, Nautica, I swear…I will love you forever."

They stood a long time, just holding one another, sealing the memory of it in their souls…the touch, the words, knowing it would be all they could ever have. Finally, he pulled a little away, looking down at her tenderly, his heart in his eyes, as he said, "We'd better head back. Hercules will be looking for us…and it's time you were going home."

She nodded disconsolately as she wiped her eyes, and they turned to make their way back, walking slowly, their feet dragging, wanting these final moments to last a lifetime.

* * *

The pirates had been rounded up and taken back to the ships, which had hauled anchor and slipped around the point back to the harbour at Corinth. Aphrodite stood beside Hercules on the beach, looking past him at the lovers as he explained the situation.

"So…is there anything you can do?" he asked, a plaintive note in his voice, a hopeful look in his eyes.

"Maybe, but I have to be sure this is what they both want," she temporized, watching them come closer, seeing their bleak unhappiness, the slowness of their steps as they returned, reading the pain of their hearts. Poseidon wouldn't likely be happy about this…but love wasn't his domain. Lifting her head, her hands coming to her hips, she studied them closely, her eyes narrowing as she considered the options.

As they walked up, Hercules said to the Jester, "Iolaus…you remember Aphrodite?"

"Oh, yes!" he replied, bobbing his head and blushing a little to remember how he'd ogled her the first time he'd seen her years ago.

She giggled, delighted by his reaction as she nodded to Nautica. "Hercules tells me the two of you are in love," she chirped, getting right to the point.

"That's right," Nautica confirmed, tightening her grip on his arm. There was a desperate look in her eyes. "I'd don't want to leave him, not ever…but…he's convinced me it's hopeless. Unless…unless you can help us! Oh please, I'll do whatever I have to do to stay with him."

"Really?" 'Dite noted, one brow arching. "Well, I'm not sure it's up to you. Like it or not, you'll have to return to the sea."

"But," Nautica tried to protest but Aphrodite raised an imperious hand, cutting her off as she turned to the Iolaus from the other world. Iolaus laid his arm around Nautica's shoulders, to comfort her, to help her be brave. A shuddering sigh escaped him as he faced Aphrodite squarely, waiting for her to tell them there was nothing she could do.

But, her words surprised him, as she said, "The decision is yours, Iolaus. Do you love Nautica enough to give up this world, to go with her to her world under the sea?"

Heartbroken grief gave way to tremulous hope, and he tightened his grip around the one person he would ever truly love with his whole heart. His face was utterly sincere, his eyes clear and his voice firm as he responded without any doubts, "Nautica is my world, my life. I left the world I was born in, and I don't really belong here or anywhere else, except where she is."

"That's all I needed to hear," 'Dite cheered, her face aglow with a brilliant smile. She waved her hands and kissed each of them on the cheek. "Go then…go to your world and your life together…and be happy."

Nautica looked astounded that it could be this simple, and then her face was wreathed with a glorious smile as she too cheered and turned to hug her love. Iolaus looked like he'd just been given the earth and everything in it, astonished and overwhelmed with a gratitude he could find no way to express. "Thank you," he murmured to Aphrodite.

Then, his arm around Nautica, he turned to Hercules, "And you. For believing in me. For giving me a new life. I've never been as happy as I've been in the last few weeks."

"You earned it, my friend. I hope your happiness is only just beginning…I wish you both all the joy that life can hold," Hercules replied, his own eyes suspiciously moist as he laid a gentle hand on the Jester's shoulder.

Nodding, the Jester turned to Herc's side, casting a look at Hercules, a question in his eyes. "Iolaus?"

"He's right here," the demigod indicated with a wave of his hand.

Staring at the space, imagining his twin smiling at him, Iolaus said, "I owe you everything. You have been my inspiration and my teacher…you shared what you are so that I could save Nautica. You were the one who suggested I come to this world. I will never be able to thank you for the gift of my life…or the life I will know with her. I…all I can offer…is to tell you that you will always be my hero. I'll do my best to live up to everything you have always stood for."

Iolaus gazed a moment at his twin, his face mirroring the pride he felt in this man, and the love. Turning to Nautica, he said quietly, "He doesn't have to be like me…he just has to be himself. I'm proud to know he's my twin…and I wish you both all the best. You deserve the love you share. Tell him that for me, when you get home."

"I will," she promised, and then she turned to her Iolaus and tugged at his arm, pulling him toward the sea. Laughing then for the sheer joy of their love, they whirled like children and raced into the surf, turning once to wave back as they swam out, and then with a mighty thrust of two tails, they disappeared under the sea.

"Thank you, Aphrodite," Hercules said, smiling, relieved and very happy to see that the Jester had finally found the life he deserved.

"Oh…I love a love story," she giggled, "and happy endings!" With that, she vanished. Before her eyes could cloud with sorrow that her brother and her Sweetcheeks hadn't quite the happy ending she would have wished for them.

"That was great," Iolaus sighed, ever the romantic.

"Yeah, it was. I'm glad he's finally found a life worth living," Hercules replied, staring out at the sea.

"Well…I guess we should head back to the port, get the wagon and return it to Jason," Iolaus suggested. "He's not going to believe this!"

"Right," agreed Hercules, turning to head back toward Corinth.

"So…what took you so long to get here?" asked Iolaus as they ambled along.

As Hercules relayed his tale, Iolaus alternately looked concerned, at the ambush and long fall to the rocks below, and then impishly delighted with the tale of Poseidon and his reluctance to just come out and give his beloved daughter whatever she wanted. It amused him to think the gods faced the same challenges with their children as did mortals…if they cared enough to be bothered at all. But, then, the same thing could be said about some mortals, too.

"Well, I'm glad you made it, and that Iph turned up in the nick of time," Iolaus observed. "He did great against the guys in the barn, you know, once he'd gotten the hang of how to fight, but a whole boat load would have been too much…way too much."

"Uh huh," Hercules agreed. "I got back as quickly as I could…I knew it would be hard for you to keep your promise…."

"What?" Iolaus cut in, expression bleached from his face.

"Well, I knew you'd want to help," Hercules replied diffidently, having the sinking feeling he'd just said something very wrong.

"Yeah…I wanted to help all right. I wanted to help when they nearly beat him to death and dragged her off screaming. I wanted to help when he went in against nine guys for the first time in his life, when they were armed and he wasn't. I wanted to help when I saw that ship anchor off shore…but I didn't," he replied bitterly, his entire being stiff with tension and resentment. "How could you think I'd just walk away from the promise I gave you? You think my word is worth that little?" Iolaus demanded, clearly furious.

"No!" Hercules denied, his hands up in defense. "No…it's just that…well, I knew how hard it would be…"

"Yeah…about as hard as it would be for you to stand around and do nothing while people you care about are hurt. You know what, Hercules, I hate this promise. But, I made it. The least you could do is trust me to keep it," Iolaus seethed, stomping on ahead.

Hercules didn't know what to say…could feel his friend's pain, the anger and guilt, the grief at being helpless, the frustration like a tangible force radiating from Iolaus. And, he knew his friend was right. It would kill him to keep such a promise himself. Did he ask too much? Gods…no! Without that promise, Iolaus might already have done something to destroy himself!

"I'm sorry," he finally blurted, as he caught up. "I just don't…"

"I don't want to talk about it," Iolaus cut him off. "Because, if we talk about it right now, I'm going to retract the promise, and I don't think you want that. But, I warn you, Hercules…I'm really not sure how long I can go on with it. I'll keep trying…for you. Let's just not…talk about it."

"Okay," murmured the demigod, feeling that it was wrong, all of it, wrong. This kind of existence wasn't fair to Iolaus, but no existence at all was too devastating to consider.

Once again, as they strode back to the harbour in silence, he began to wonder what he might be able to do, to trade, to get Iolaus out of this intolerable reality.

There had to be a way. Maybe if he begged Zeus? Iolaus would hate that…but it might be the only option they had.

Casting his eyes to the sky he wondered, 'Would you answer if I called? Would you do this for him…for me?'


	6. The Cretan Bull

Chapter Six: The Cretan Bull

They'd stopped by the palace to pick up the sack of gold Iphicles had promised in return for the weapons Jason had sent, and then on to the port to reclaim their wagon, a little surprised to see that it was still there. It was a gesture of respect, in its own way, by the dockworkers and tradesmen in return for Hercules saving that poor girl from an illegal marriage to the scurvy pirate. They'd posted their own watch on the demigod's wagon to ensure no one just drove it away.

Iolaus remained silent for most of the trip back to the Academy, reflecting on the promise he'd made, telling himself sternly that he could learn to live with it…all the while knowing that was a lie. Not forever. He couldn't imagine doing what he'd done last night, standing back to watch another battered almost to death, just because he'd given his word not to help. It violated everything that he was, everything he believed in. So…he knew it was only a matter of time. And a matter of finding a way to tell Hercules the promise was off. A way to face the fear in the demigod's eyes.

Sighing, he decided he'd have to start finding a way to help Hercules live without him. Because eternity was a long time. And given the cards he'd been dealt, he seriously doubted he'd last that long.

Hercules, too, was silent, aware of the tension in Iolaus, afraid he knew only too well what his friend was thinking about. Maybe…maybe if they just lived quietly, didn't go looking for trouble. But, then, he sighed. It wasn't like they'd ever looked for it…trouble had a way of finding them. When the gates of the Academy came into view as they crested a rise, he turned to Iolaus, and said, "I know this is impossible. That it can't go on like this forever. But…just a little longer, okay? Until we can figure out what to do, how to change the limits…."

Iolaus looked down at his clasped hands, hearing the pleading tone, the desperation in Herc's voice. 'Figure out what to do…' he thought, 'like there's anything either of us can do about this.' But, he nodded, agreeing to keep the promise for now. "Okay," he murmured, looking up toward the sprawling complex that spread out before them. "A while longer…."

Jason came out to meet them as they pulled into the yard, heading the team toward the stables. The new Headmaster was surprised to see that Hercules was alone and wondered what had happened to the little guy from the other world, afraid they'd run into trouble. His face clouded as he loped across the yard to meet his friend, calling out, "Where's Iolaus? What happened?"

Reminded of the good news, Hercules smiled as he climbed down from the wagon, leaving the tending of the team to the cadets who'd emerged from the stables. Reaching up to take the bag of gold from the seat, he turned to hand it to his friend, as he answered, "Well, Jason, it's a long tail…two tails, actually…."

"What?" Jason replied, taking the gold and unconsciously hefting it gladly, his attention still on the missing Jester. But, the demigod's smile at least let him know the story wasn't dire. "So…tell me!"

Laughing, the demigod looped an arm around his friend as they turned to head toward the mess for an ale. "Well, you see, there was this girl and some pirates…oh, and Poseidon's Trident…."

"Hercules!" Jason protested, punching his friend's arm. "Either tell me the story clearly or I'll just have you repeat what Iolaus has to say about it!"

The demigod grinned as he heard his buddy snicker behind him. At least this was a story they could all be sure had a happy ending.

* * *

They puttered around for the next couple of days, Hercules again taking over the athletics program, while Jason made the necessary arrangements to buy the supplies needed and to see the repairs he wanted made were underway. The ex-king had been delighted by the love story, very pleased that the Jester had found love and a new life, though he thought he'd miss the little guy, and the youngest cadets were sorry to hear he wouldn't be back. Over the course of the past days, Jason had found a new reason for life and he found he enjoyed it. Having only agreed to take on the headmaster role temporarily, he'd decided to keep it. Teaching these young minds gave him a purpose that he could be proud of fulfilling and he'd planned to offer the Jester a permanent job.

Then, one day, Jason was surprised when one of the parents dropped by the Academy to see how her daughter was getting on…and the Headmaster realized why that particular cadet had seemed so hauntingly familiar to him.

"Lilith!" he cried, "I don't believe it! By the gods, it's good to see you again!"

Grinning, she hugged him and then stood back. She'd known he was here, Seska had written to her with the news of the new Headmaster and all the recent excitement. It was why she'd come. "I agree Jason… it's been too many years."

Taking her by the arm, Jason led her to his office, delighted to see her again, feeling young suddenly, as if all the years had fallen away. "Come in!" he urged. "We have a lot of catching up to do."

"More than you know," she murmured, casting him a sideways glance, thinking how good he looked, how good it was to see him again. She'd been right to come. He wasn't a king anymore, with a life and duties that could hold no room for her. Nor was he married now…though she tried not to hope he might still, somehow, feel as she did, what they'd felt in their youth. But, it was time he knew the truth…time that Seska knew as well.

"I've met your daughter," he was saying as they entered his office and he settled her in a chair, leaning back on his desk as he gazed at her fondly. "She's a fine cadet…you must be proud of her."

"I am, and I'm glad you approve of her," Lilith replied, looking away from a moment. Swallowing, taking a deep breath, she plunged right in. "You see…she's your daughter, too."

His face went blank with shock, as he stammered, "My…Seska?"

Feeling her heart sink, she hastened to assure him, "Not that I expect anything of you…and she doesn't know. It's just that I thought you deserved to know…."

"Why didn't you tell me?" he exclaimed, standing straight, a flash of anger in his eyes. "Years ago… why…?"

"Oh, Jason," she sighed. "You were the King…and what was I? A scruffy little tomboy cadet? There was no room in your life for me then…for us…."

"Not such a tomboy as I recall," he replied softly, remembering. Moving to pull her to her feet, to hold her in his arms, he said quietly, "I loved you, Lilith…I would have loved our child. You should have told me, not borne this burden all alone."

"She's never been a burden, Jason…how could she be?" Lilith replied, fighting a sob. "She's your daughter…I wanted her, never wanted anything more in my life. And…she's wonderful."

Jason hugged her tightly, and lightly kissed her brow. "I have a daughter," he whispered, amazed, thrilled…a little frightened. "I…would it be alright…to tell her now?" he asked, hopeful, wanting this suddenly, wanting more than anything to have a family again…to hold…to love.

"If you want to," Lilith agreed, glad to know he did. So glad to feel his arms around her again.

"Oh yes," he sighed, pulling back to smile at her, happiness glowing in his eyes, "I want to, very much."

And so they went to find Seska, to tell her the news, both of them so nervous they were shaking. What if she hated it, the whole idea? They found her in a class and asked that she be excused. Surprised to see her parent so unexpectedly, delighted, Seska hugged her mother enthusiastically, and then they went for a walk out to the garden in the back of the Academy, where there was a bench in the shade of an old tree.

Drawing her daughter down beside her, glancing at Jason for encouragement, then back to gaze into Seska's eyes, Lilith began a little tentatively, "Seska…I've never told you who your father was, only that I loved him very much, but couldn't tell him about you. I told you I'd explain when you were old enough. Well…you're old enough."

The young cadet frowned when her mother paused, confused, startled to be having this conversation with the Headmaster standing there. She flicked a look at Jason…and it was the expression on his face that explained it all. Jason, Captain of the Argonauts, former King of Corinth, hero…and her Headmaster…was her father?

"You?" she breathed, her eyes wide, wondering what he thought of her, whether he wanted to know about her.

"Yes, me," Jason replied, smiling softly, nervously. "Your mother just told me…and I only wish I'd known years ago. I know this is a shock for you…and I don't expect you to like me straight off…but I really hope we can become friends, at least…."

"Poppa?" she murmured, tears brimming in her eyes, as she unconsciously lifted a hand toward him. She'd always wondered…wondered if her father would want her…and she could see in his eyes that he did. And, she felt all shivery inside…all trembling and wanting…needing….

Jason reached for her and pulled her up into a tight hug, whispering, "Oh my girl, my darling girl…I'm so glad…"

Lilith sat with tears in her own eyes, one escaping to roll down her cheek…and was touched when Jason held out a hand to her, drawing her up into a joint hug. "We're a family now," he choked through the lump in his throat, "if you'll have me."

She smiled brilliantly at him, then leaned in, her head on his shoulder, one arm around him, one around her daughter, and sighed with relief. Home…she was finally home.

* * *

Hercules and Iolaus were delighted to see Lilith…and thrilled with the news. Iolaus had a few pithy observations to make about their youthful days at the Academy that Hercules chose not to share with the others, prompting Iolaus to laugh at him. Lilith, for her part, was glad to see Hercules again, and hugged him warmly. But, when she heard about Iolaus, her eyes flickered about the emptiness and her lips parted, as she sighed, "Oh Iolaus…I've missed you so much…I want to hug you, too."

"Tell her to consider herself well and truly hugged," Iolaus replied. "Better yet…hug her for me, big guy."

So, Hercules complied, while Lilith smiled sweetly at the place she knew Iolaus was standing.

Jason went about as proud as any father of a newborn daughter, except he had the fun of seeing her laughing and carrying on, brash and straightforward, a worthy student if not a brilliant one, and brave, taking on her male counterparts without blinking an eye…and besting them better than half the time. "She takes after you," he observed fondly one day to Lilith, who he had prevailed upon to stay at the Academy, with him.

Seska felt as if the sun had come into her life, as if all the pieces that had been missing were now falling into place. She blossomed under her father's approval, feeling a new confidence…and her mother's serene happiness was not lost on her.

"They all look like they belong together," Iolaus observed one evening as he watched them head out the gates for a walk. Turning to Hercules, he asked softly, "Does it bother you…I mean…Alcmene…"

"No," Hercules shook his head, smiling softly. "Of all of us, mother would be the one who would most want him to be happy. And he is…they all are. I'm glad."

They fell into a thoughtful silence, reflecting that everything seemed to be working out for the best. Iolaus' twin had found the love of his life and had a wonderful, fulfilling future ahead of him. Jason had found an old love, and a new daughter…a family when he'd thought he'd spend the rest of his life alone. They were each very happy for their friends.

But, the happiness of the others, the brightness of their futures, was a sharp contrast to the dark shadows that loomed before them, their own future uncertain, definitely unsettled. Hercules cut a glance at Iolaus, his eyes worried…afraid. He could tell his buddy was restless, unhappy…that he couldn't hold Iolaus to that promise forever. But it very nearly killed him to think about what would happen then. And Iolaus was only too aware of Hercules' disquiet. Talking with the animals was okay as far as it went, but it was a long way from what he'd somehow imagined when he'd refused to go back to Elysium. He knew Hercules was avoiding trouble, sticking close to the quiet life of the Academy, and he knew why. But, Herc was 'way too young to 'retire', and the world needed him. It bothered Iolaus to know he'd become a 'problem', a burden, someone who caused more concern than he alleviated. None of this was working out the way he'd hoped…but he didn't have a clue as to how to make any of it better.

It was also increasingly clear that the others were more at ease when he wasn't around, when they didn't have to remember to include him, so he'd again taken to roaming the woods while the others were occupied with their tasks. He returned in the evening to the staff mess to keep Hercules company over his meal, now that Jason was more often with Lilith and Seska in the main mess. During those times they'd pretend to one another that everything was fine, though each knew only too well that it wasn't. Then Iolaus would drift away again while everyone else slept. It was lonely, unfulfilling. But, he honestly loved the quiet of the forest, loved watching the animals, loved the smell of it…the sound of the rushing water in their favourite fishing stream. He drank it in…and told himself it was enough.

One day as he was ambling back to the Academy in the late afternoon, he heard the shout of a messenger calling for Hercules. Quickening his pace, taking care not to 'flit', he arrived in time to see the guy hand a scroll to his buddy. Iolaus was curious but not surprised, well, not surprised that someone had sent Hercules had received a scroll…maybe surprised it had taken this long for the world to catch up with Herc and send him a request for help. That's what it would be. That's what it always was.

Iolaus knew he'd likely have to reassure Hercules that he wouldn't do anything stupid so that Herc would agree to help whoever needed him this time. Giving himself a mental kick, he told himself to get with the program and stop feeling sorry for himself. He'd wasted enough time on wishing things could be different than they were and it was time to move on.

He moved to stand beside his friend as Herc unfurled the missive, frowning in concentration as he read:

'Hercules, it's been a long time since last we spoke and I know you have been traveling difficult roads. I find myself having to demand another labour of you, though I had sincerely hoped the last would have resolved the threat to what you value most. And yet, a worse threat has arisen and must be resolved. I demand, in keeping with your oath so long ago to do my will, that you go to Crete, to destroy the Cretan Bull that guards a small seemingly insignificant cottage. It's a massive creature, turned mean, and defeating it will not be easy. But, if you succeed, you will want to share the refreshment you'll find on the kitchen table with the one who travels with you. I will pray for the success you both deserve…. Eurystheus'

Thoughtfully, Hercules rolled the scroll back up and slipped it into his vest. Long ago, he'd been coerced into a vow to do Eurystheus' will to safeguard Iolaus' life, and had then been forced into a desperate final labour to remove the threat the gods held over them both. He'd been furious with Eurystheus at the time, until he'd won, and he'd understood the wisdom and courage of the older man in setting the task for him. Somehow, his old mentor had learned of their current situation, and though the note was cryptic, the demigod had no doubt it was the miracle he'd been longing for.

"What is it, Hercules?" Iolaus asked, concerned at the distant look on his partner's face, getting ready to launch into his 'well, of course you have to help,' speech.

Turning to gaze down at his best friend, Hercules replied evenly, "We're going to Crete. Eurystheus has something he wants me to do for him there…I have to honour the old vow."

The demigod wasn't prepared to share his hopes for what this might mean. There wasn't enough in the note, and perhaps he was only reaching for straws, desperate to believe that he was being handed a gift so precious he was afraid it would shatter if he held it too tightly. He couldn't raise Iolaus' hopes, it wouldn't be fair if it turned out he was just engaging in wishful thinking. But…he couldn't help the hope he felt, and it shone in his eyes.

Surprised to hear who the message had been from, Iolaus studied his friend, knowing there was more, something Hercules wasn't telling him. It had been nearly twenty years since his buddy had sworn himself to do Eurystheus' will, and had as a result engaged in some pretty dangerous tasks at the time. But… Eurystheus had found a way for them to beat the blackmail the gods held over them, Iolaus' life in exchange for Hercules agreeing to whatever they willed. To hear from the man now, after all these years…Iolaus wondered…and couldn't help but see the hope in his best friend's eyes. Swallowing, trying not to read too much into Herc's expression, he asked, "When do we leave?"

"Right away," Hercules replied, turning to tell Jason they had a journey to take, a deed to do. 'A labour,' he thought as he headed into the building, 'a task for some great prize, a prize of immeasurable worth and meaning…gods…please let it be the 'prize' I want, need, most in this life…please….'

* * *

They caught a ship at Corinth, a merchantman with goods to trade with the wealthy Minoan people. A large ship, it made good time, but it still took three days to cover the distance across the turquoise seas. All that Hercules would share was that he had to destroy a bull that had turned mean and was terrorizing the populace. Iolaus studied him quietly and let it go. There'd be time enough to see what was going on when they got there.

It was an easy sail, and Jason had insisted upon paying the fare, so Hercules didn't have to work his way. They spent long hours by the rail, watching the eternal sea, at peace with one another. Iolaus was tickled, and not a little moved, by the way Hercules just ignored the sailors who clearly thought he was crazy, talking and laughing to himself by the ship's rail. Oh, at first the demigod had tried to explain, while Iolaus giggled hysterically, but after a while, he just gave up and let the sailors think whatever they wanted as they gave him a wide berth.

But, Iolaus was also mindful of his thoughts on the way back from Corinth, that he had to find a way to help Hercules find peace without him, should that ever be necessary. Because, though he could see the hope in the demigod's eyes, and could guess that somehow they were being offered some kind of reprieve, he didn't dare rely upon it. So, as they reminisced about the crazy times they'd shared, the triumphs, and laughed at the more ridiculous memories, like being purple, Iolaus found himself frequently finding the opportunity to reflect on how he'd loved his life and wouldn't have changed it, none of it. And, he found an equal number of occasions to observe on the good Hercules did, the difference he made in the lives he touched, the people who cared about him…the meaning of his life.

Hercules heard the quiet observations, or those offered teasingly…and those barked out in laughter. Heard them all, and knew what Iolaus was trying to tell him. That he'd have to find a way of letting his friend go without being destroyed by it. He knew Iolaus was concerned about him, wanted to know that he'd be alright if anything happened…but…Hercules couldn't believe that could ever be possible. He'd lost too much, all those he'd loved best and he just couldn't bear the idea of one day irrevocably losing Iolaus.

He didn't understand it himself, this need, this overwhelming sense that they were bound together, that one couldn't exist, not as a complete being, without the other. Gods, he'd tried to find his own way, but he'd felt empty and utterly devastated, as if his own soul had been ripped from his body. Others lost those they loved… Jason had recovered from losing his mother. The Jester had managed to live with the horror of what his Hercules had become. But, in his heart, Hercules knew he couldn't be whole without Iolaus by his side, as he'd been for as long as the demigod could remember. His mother used to tease them, used to say they shared a single soul, and he hadn't understood, not until the past year, how right she had been.

Without Iolaus, he just wasn't whole.

Hercules knew he couldn't go through it again. Ever since Hades had warned him that Iolaus could be lost if he continued exerting his will to impact on the world to help people, Hercules had felt as if he was walking on the edge of an abyss. He expected it to crumble out from beneath him at any moment, unpredictably, outside of his control. His security and balance rested upon the promise he'd demanded from Iolaus. He knew it was selfish, that what he'd demanded of his friend was in some ways unconscionable…but he couldn't help it. He'd do anything, demand anything, to keep his friend by his side. But, this wasn't really up to him. It was up to Iolaus. Everything depended on how long his friend would agree to leash his own will before it became too much and oblivion became more desirable that the guilt of not helping when and where Iolaus knew he could.

The promise Hercules had forced had been carefully crafted that night when he couldn't sleep. The wording was entirely deliberate. 'On my life', he'd made Iolaus vow, and he'd meant it. It was the ultimate selfishness, and Hercules knew it. He hoped he'd die before he lost Iolaus again…and, if his hope wasn't to be granted, he'd decided he would kill himself rather than face the madness Iolaus' loss would bring. For himself, and for the world…his strength was too great, he could pose too much danger if he simply went mad. Oddly, the decision had brought him a measure of comfort. What good was a body anyway, once the soul was gone? Hercules hadn't shared any of this with Iolaus…wasn't sure he'd find the words to explain it. But, more, he knew he'd already placed intolerable burdens upon his friend. It was his decision alone to make, his life…his soul…his choice.

Perhaps, if they were lucky, if Fortune turned her fickle face toward them and smiled, perhaps this Cretan Bull was the key. And…if it wasn't…well, he tried not to think about that. But, deep down, he knew if they didn't find a solution in Crete, he'd beg his father, agree to anything…there had to be a way to make Iolaus safe without hurting him like this promise hurt him. And, if that failed, well, then it was only a matter of time.

That awareness of time, that realization that it was fleeting, that he couldn't count on having Iolaus much longer, made every moment precious. So, Hercules laughed and teased, was teased back and immersed himself in the joy that Iolaus brought into his life…grateful and made humble by the gift Iolaus made of himself, as he had always done, treasuring his friend and gifting him back with all that he was

* * *

They docked at the port of the capital city, Knossus, in the shadow of the massive palace that could house five thousand people in comfort. It was the marvel of their world, built by Daedalus to withstand earthquake and any attack, not that the Minoans were prepared for war. It wasn't a part of their culture of art and commerce. As they strode through the busy streets leading to the palace, Hercules marveled at what they had created here and wondered if it could last…if beauty could forever hold back greed and war.

He asked directions at the palace on how to find the Cretan Bull…and it seemed everyone knew where it was to be found. A day's journey into the hills, to a narrow valley with a narrower river. He'd find the bull in a large fenced meadow against the cliffs. And, yes, there was an ancient cottage there, though none had ever visited it, flush against the unscalable cliffs as it was, the only path to it led past the jealous bull. No one knew who the cottage had belonged to, though it was rumoured to have been a favourite retreat of Gaia herself…it was only known that it had been there forever, and the bull had been there eternally guarding it from the curiousity of mortal eyes. The bull, their symbol of fertility, was believed to be Gaia's own. It was the only way they could explain the wonder of its size and longevity.

Thanking the priestesses who had given him the directions, for the Minoans still worshipped Gaia, the ancient goddess of the earth and not the Olympians, they set out on their trek into the interior. It was a pleasant journey, the island beautiful, rich in agriculture, lush with green mountains and rushing streams and rivers. Flowers bloomed wild and trees blossomed, scenting the air delicately around them. In its own way, Crete was a kind of paradise.

The journey was too long to complete that day, since their ship hadn't docked until well after the sun had reached its zenith. They made camp by a stream and Hercules fished…his own way, much to Iolaus' teasing contempt, and they lingered over the fire, Hercules too excited by what the morrow might bring to relax into sleep.

"So…you're going to kill Gaia's bull," Iolaus observed dryly. "Do you really think that's wise?"

Hercules looked away as he shrugged. "It's a labour assigned by Eurystheus. I don't have any choice. If it angers her, she'll have to take it up with him and whoever concocted this up."

"Uh huh," Iolaus grunted, gazing across the fire with a knowing look, "so, you don't think he dreamed this up on his own?"

"I don't know, Iolaus…the other labours were all his idea so far as I could ever tell," Hercules replied blandly.

"What aren't you telling me?" the soul demanded, crossing his arms as he leaned against a tree and looked down at the demigod sitting cross-legged by the fire.

"What?" Hercules replied, an involuntary smile shocked to his lips. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh come off it. I didn't fall out of an olive tree this afternoon. Something's up…Eurystheus has come up with something to help us, hasn't he?" Iolaus scoffed.

Hercules sighed as he looked into the flames. "Maybe…we won't know until we get there, and until I defeat the bull. I'm…I'm a little afraid to hope for too much, you know?"

"Yeah," his buddy sighed, moving to sit across the fire from him, "I know. Herc…the things Eurystheus asks…they're dangerous. I don't want you to risk too much…"

Hercules stared for a long moment into the flickering flames before he shook his head a little, and looked up, his eyes dark with his own promise, "I won't risk more than I think it's worth."

Iolaus rolled his eyes, as he protested, "That's what I'm afraid of! Herc…"

But, the demigod cut him off, his voice steady as he demanded, "Iolaus…this time it is my choice. Whatever happens, I want you to remember your promise to me…on my life, you'll keep that promise."

"You're a hard man, Hercules," Iolaus sighed, twisting his lips in discontent as he gazed at his friend, his eyes clouded with fear and deep reluctance to agree to something which might well cost Hercules his life.

"Promise," the demigod pushed.

Gazing into the flames, Iolaus nodded once as he replied, his voice soft but oddly intense, "On your life, Herc…I promise."

* * *

It took the whole of the next morning, and then into the afternoon, before they crested the final hill and looked down into the long, narrow valley below, the thin ribbon of a river glinting in the sun as it meandered along the middle of the cleft between the mountain cliffs.

They could make out the meadow, and the high stone wall which enclosed it…the cottage against the far sheer wall of rock…and the bull.

They both paused in silent shock as they stared down at it. Though they were some distance away, they were staggered by the size and power of the beast.

"Dear gods, Hercules…" Iolaus breathed. "It's a monster."

Swallowing, the demigod nodded but then simply squared his shoulders as he led the way down through the forest to the valley below.

"Wait!" called Iolaus, skipping a little in his haste to catch his friend as he ran down the steep path. "You can't just walk in there! You need a weapon!"

Hercules paused at that, and with another look through the trees at the beast below, he nodded. "You could be right." Striding to a sturdy oak, he reached up and ripped a thick branch from the body of the tree and tore smaller branches from it to create a lance. Reaching for the knife he carried in the back of his belt, the knife he and Iolaus had once forged together, he shaved the tip of the lance until the point was sharp. Slipping the knife back into his belt, he turned and continued down the narrow path.

Iolaus just looked at him, and then down to the bull below and shook his head. This was not good.

It didn't get any better as they got closer. The stone fence, as thick as a barricade, was as high as Hercules' shoulders. Beyond it, they could see the Cretan Bull clearly now, and it stood ten feet high at its shoulder. Heavily muscled with a hide like iron, it looked as if it had been carved of stone. Sensing their presence, the heavy head turned to face them, and they saw eyes blazing like twin fires, horns curved and shaped to dagger like tips and they could have sworn when it snorted at them that smoke blew from its nostrils.

"Uh…Hercules, I don't think this is such a good idea," Iolaus muttered with a shudder he couldn't quite suppress.

His head cocked a little as he studied the beast, Hercules shrugged. "Doesn't matter," he replied. "It's a labour set by Eurystheus…I have no choice."

"Bull!" protested Iolaus as he stepped in front of the demigod. Glancing over his shoulder meaningfully, he continued, "And I mean that with that guy in mind. That old vow doesn't mean anything anymore. What'll happen if you refuse…some god'll show up and blast me? I'm already dead!"

Hercules just looked down at his best friend for a moment, then quietly replied, "You know what will happen, eventually. I won't just accept that, Iolaus…not when I have a choice."

Stepping around his friend, he tossed the lance over the wall, then jumped to lever himself up and over, into the field.

"Hercules!" Iolaus called out, but the demigod was already striding toward his fate. "Dammit," the soul muttered, passing through the wall to watch the battle play out.

"It'll be all right," Hercules reassured him, calling back over his shoulder, his eyes remaining on the bull that had turned to face him and was pawing the ground, its head low, snorting at the invasion of its turf.

"Yeah, right," Iolaus replied, his eyes narrowing as he watched the beast gather itself for its charge.

And then it was lumbering down the long field toward the demigod, its great hooves churning up the ground, the earth trembling with the weight of it as it picked up speed, coming faster than a spring flood tearing down a mountain.

Hercules took a balanced position, readying his improvised lance for the fatal thrust, tall and strong as he stood alone in the field, focused on the task at hand. The demigod felt curiously fatalistic as he watched the massive beast thundering toward him, not at all sure the flimsy oak lance would be sufficient to kill the monster. He might well die in this attempt, this hope that might even be misplaced, that there was something inside that cottage which could restore Iolaus, or in some way protect his soul. But, if he did die, he figured that at the least, they'd be souls who could hang around together…because no one was taking his soul anywhere Iolaus couldn't go. He felt no fear for himself, only that he might let Iolaus down. On the other hand, if he won this contest, all their problems might well be over. Lifting his head, smiling in anticipation of watching his buddy drink from the chalice, he shifted a little, poised to thrust the lance as the bull pounded ever closer.

Iolaus watched, afraid to blink, as he watched the beast thunder down the field toward his best friend. Swearing to himself in his anxiety, he knew Herc was risking this for him and it was driving him crazy to just stand here and watch. Taking a mental breath, he tried to calm himself, telling himself that Hercules could do this…Herc could do anything. He'd be fine. And then he saw the massive bull swerve at the last moment, away from the thrusting lance, so that it scraped harmlessly along its side, leaving the demigod wide open to its relentless assault! Iolaus was already starting to run forward, when it's massive head rolled toward the demigod as it came on, undeterred, and determined to kill this trespasser.

Iolaus screamed as the dagger-like horn gored the demigod's side and the force of the blow knocked his best friend flying back to land hard in the rocky field, an audible 'thwack' as his head connected with a stone and he lay sprawled unmoving in the dirt, blood staining his vest.

The bull was charging after him, intent upon trampling its victim into the ground…and Iolaus was pounding after it, knowing he could never catch it in time this way…knowing he could not watch it murder Hercules. In a blinding moment of almost raw terror, he threw his promise to the winds. A vow on Herc's life would be meaningless anyway if the demigod was dead.

"Sorry," he murmured as he flitted with supernatural speed to cut off the bull's charge. "For your life…I have to do this!"

As he blew into position, Iolaus focused all of his force, everything that he was on creating an impassable wall between the bull and his best friend. "Get up!" he screamed just before the bull hit, knowing he couldn't hold it off forever, just long enough he hoped for Hercules to get himself out of the way.

Titanic power hit a will of steel, and dust blew up around them as the bull crunched to a halt, bellowing in surprise, then dug in its hooves to get past the puny being who'd dared to try to keep it from its kill. Iolaus pushed back with all his might, his energy focused on this one thing, to save Hercules' life. Nothing else mattered. Nothing.

Hercules groaned and lifted his head, shocked into motion when he saw what was occurring. The lance was still gripped in his fist and he scrambled to his feet. "IOLAUS!" he screamed. "STOP!"

His buddy had little choice. He'd expended all he had. Just as his strength failed, Hercules lunged in, driving the lance with all his power, made greater by his desperate fear and fury. "You promised me!" he screamed, unable to accept what Iolaus had done…overwhelmed to know it had been done deliberately, for him. The crude weapon plunged deep into the bull's body, tearing into its heart…and bellowing its agony and rage, it dropped as if pole-axed straight to the earth.

Just next to the place where a wasted soul had crumpled to float about a foot off the ground…gray and insubstantial.

Hercules dropped to his knees, screaming, "NO!" as he looked into the fading features of his best friend.

"Live…Herc," Iolaus murmured, his eyes clouded, sightless, his voice thin and reedy, as insubstantial as a wisp of fog. "For…me."

"NO!" shouted the demigod again, mindless in his terror, as he scrambled to his feet and raced headlong to the cottage, driving the door from its hinges with his shoulder as he plunged inside. Oblivious to his own injuries, to the blood pouring from his side, he looked wildly around the dim interior and spotted the table…and the plain clay chalice, worn and chipped.

Lunging forward, only then did he realize how badly he was hurt as he staggered, dizzy. "Not now," he growled, as he reached for the goblet and had to steady himself on the edge of the table to keep from collapsing. A trembling, unsteady hand gripped the precious cup, wondering what it contained. Salvation? Poison? Desperate, knowing that only this could save Iolaus, and only if he could get it back to him in time, Hercules lifted the cup to his lips. Just a sip. And he'd know. Know if it was a deadly poison…or a potion to bring life.

Strength surged through him and he whirled back to the door, the chalice gripped in one hand, the palm of the other covering it, sealing the rim so none of the precious liquid could spill away. He charged back across the field, still tasting the ambrosia thinned with sweet nectar on his tongue, and fell to his knees by the wavering wisp of mist, barely discernable now as the shape of his friend. He tipped the goblet to let the potion flow toward the dim outline of his buddy's mouth, slipping a hand under the shadow of Iolaus' head to catch whatever spilled through the insubstantial remains of all that was left of his partner.

"Come on," he groaned, feeling liquid splash into his palm. Steadying himself, he poured more slowly, but continued to try to get the libation into his buddy…heaving a sobbing breath when Iolaus' form began to become clearer…less gray…less insubstantial. More…a little more…and still more, emptying what he'd caught into his hand back into the chalice, then laying his hand again beneath Iolaus' floating form. "Come on, buddy…come on," he begged breathlessly.

Iolaus' body grew heavy and sank to the earth, his head pillowed in Hercules' palm. The last of the potion dripped past his slack lips and Hercules tossed the empty clay vessel away, running his trembling fingers through his hair, then reaching to draw Iolaus closer against his body.

He shuddered to feel skin and muscle, his breath catching in his chest as he gazed down into Iolaus' pale face, still, unresponsive, but no longer only a wraith. Then, finally, he saw the rise and fall of Iolaus' chest as he drew in breath, felt the warmth return to his partner's skin. Hercules closed his eyes, drawing Iolaus tight to his chest, his head bent over his partner's, tears streaming down his face as he wept, blind with the relief that surged through his heart…and his soul.

It was long minutes later before Iolaus stirred, groggy, confused as he muttered, "Sorry…couldn't let…on your life…had to save…"

"Shhh," Hercules soothed, trembling fingers stroking his buddy's curls back from his face. "Rest, Iolaus…just rest." Vaguely astonished that he still existed, Iolaus knew something was different, but he couldn't focus…and drifted back into the darkness. He'd been so far gone that even the ambrosia had scarcely been enough to bring him back.

In the moment that he'd realized Iolaus had abrogated the promise, Hercules had been furious, furious with his partner for betraying something so sacred, furious with himself for having been injured and leaving Iolaus with little choice. And, he'd been terrified that at the very brink of salvation there would only be intolerable loss. But, the urgency to act had driven all feeling away, focusing all his attention on doing everything he could to save his friend. Now, he couldn't be angry…how could he be? He would have made the same choice to save Iolaus' life that Iolaus had just made for him, and he knew it. It was the story of their lives…at their most vulnerable, it was the other who was there, and the greatest loss one could suffer, was the greatest gift the other could give. They'd been lucky…they'd both survived once again. And all Hercules could feel was an immense, all-consuming gratitude that Iolaus was safe, at least for now.

As the tumult of his own emotions eased, Hercules shifted and picked his partner up, to carry him away from the carcass of the massive bull, back to the cool shadow of the stone wall. Leaning against it, Hercules slipped to the ground, moving to cradle Iolaus comfortably against his body…and he just gazed down into the beloved face, his own transformed by the light of blissful happiness, as he murmured softly, "Thank you… whoever you are…thank you."

* * *

It was another hour before Iolaus stirred again. Blinking against the light, he tried to remember what had happened…and then he stiffened in awareness. He could feel Hercules holding him! Startled blue eyes widened as they looked into the soft gaze above. "What…?" he whispered, not daring to hope. The last thing he could remember was the bull pushing past him, Hercules screaming somewhere behind him…he was terrified that being able to feel Hercules' strong grip only meant that he'd failed…that Herc was dead too.

"Welcome back, buddy," Hercules replied softly, a warm smile playing on his lips…and then he pulled Iolaus toward him, hugging him tightly as he choked once again, "Welcome back!"

Iolaus was stunned for a moment as the words sank in. Back? Alive? With a body? Trembling with the awareness of being real, of having substance…of being able to touch again, Iolaus felt a blaze of incandescent joy burst through him as he hugged Hercules right back, holding on for all he was worth. Life! Hercules had won his life back…whole, real. Overwhelmed, overcome, he couldn't stop the tears that slipped down his cheeks, couldn't help crying with the unbelievable and achingly incredible wonder of it all.

And, for once, he didn't feel ashamed of the tears, didn't regret them.

* * *

Iolaus was a man reborn, in every sense of the word. He couldn't get enough of being solid! As they made their way back to Knossus, he deliberately tramped through every stream they came through, splashing and laughing like a kid. He'd try to catch fish the way Herc did, giggling in delight when he was successful and then just toss them back in again. As they moved through the forest, he pushed at trees and rocks, repeatedly relieved to not be able to simply pass through them…once he remembered. The first time they'd come to a sizeable oak, he'd forgotten and had tried to walk right through it…only to end up on his butt, rubbing his head and giggling like a maniac.

He kept up a non-stop chatter all the way back to the city, partial phrases and excited statements of anticipation. "Gotta hug Lilith and pound Jason on the back!", "Wow, wait'll Jason realizes he can really see me, hear me…no more of having to put up with the pitiful stories you tell!", "Fishing…we have to go fishing…and to a festival…which one is on this time of year?", "Boar stew," he sighed blissfully, "and fresh baked bread…and rabbit!" And, "taverns…ale…and barmaids!" he giggled, "Dancing…and, and everything!" And, "I can fight now, back you up…like it used to be…gods," he sighed in relief. "Oh, and we've got to go see Iph…let him know everything's alright," softly, as he remembered how Iphicles had reacted to knowing he was but a ghost.

Hercules nodded, grinned, murmured, "Uh huh," and laughed outright at the more boisterous antics. The world was alive again, full of sound and colour, laughter and joy…and he couldn't get enough of it.

But all that was nothing compared to when they finally arrived in the town. Iolaus grabbed the first pretty girl he saw and whirled her around in an impromptu dance, while Hercules apologized, trying to explain his friend had been 'away' for a while. When they hit the market, Iolaus reached for an apple, and bit into it, an expression of rapture on his face and then couldn't resist cartwheeling down the mosaic paving outside the palace, drawing startled attention from the priestesses…and then he actually kissed one of them, bringing a blush to her cheek and a twinkle to her eyes. When they ambled past the women's bathhouse, he deliberately looked at Hercules and tried to walk through the wall, laughing so hard when he couldn't that he almost fell down and had to lean on the wall for support.

Hercules rolled his eyes, and lent his buddy support until he could stand on his own again. Happy. This is what it felt like to be happy. He'd forgotten. They both had.

Finally, they made it to the dock and learned a vessel wouldn't be departing for Corinth until the next morning. They bought some cheese and bread from a food cellar and took themselves off to sit on the edge of the dock, down at the far end, away from the bustling workers.

"Yummm," Iolaus sighed as he munched the simple meal. As far as he was concerned it was ambrosia. As they watched the sun set in the west, its dying light staining the sea a brilliant pink verging on deep rose, Hercules looped an arm around his buddy's shoulders and Iolaus let himself be pulled back to rest against the demigod for a quiet moment.

"How'd you do it, Herc?" he asked quietly, finally calming down enough to remember to ask. "How'd'ya get me back?"

"Remember the cottage in the back of the meadow?" Hercules replied, smiling softly.

"Yeah?"

"There was an old pottery chalice of ambrosia and nectar on the table," the demigod explained. "It wasn't easy getting it into you…I mean you'd just about disappeared…I was afraid…."

Iolaus pulled away at the tremble he heard in his buddy's voice at the terrible memory. Turning to face Hercules, he offered, "It's over, Herc…I'm sorry it was so hard…."

Which reminded Hercules, "You promised you wouldn't do that!" he scolded, but gently, no longer needing the anger, understanding too well what had driven his best friend to risk oblivion. Not for the world this time. For him.

"Yeah, well…I'd warned you it couldn't last…" Iolaus offered lamely, looking away. "I couldn't just stand there and watch that brute crush you into the earth," he added quietly. Perking up, he added a trifle impishly, "Besides, I figured if the promise was 'on your life' and you were dead, it wouldn't mean anything anyway, so I just pushed it a bit."

"Pushed it," Hercules echoed. Then smiled, thinking of how Iolaus had held off the raging bull with the simple, sheer force of his will. "Well, that you did. Almost too far. Now that you're back, how about you make sure you don't die again anytime soon. It really wears me out, you know?"

Iolaus snickered a little as he replied, "Okay…I won't if you don't."

Chuckling, Hercules couldn't resist ruffling his buddy's hair as he replied, "I'm the not the one who routinely throws himself in front of trouble."

Pulling away, feigning umbrage, Iolaus snapped, "Oh no? Well, I beg to differ and I could give you countless, countless examples…but standing in front of a monstrous bull that's thundering toward you with no more than a toothpick in your hand comes to mind. I'm not the only one who takes risks! Standing in front of a raging bull…how crazy is that?"

"Hey, I had a good reason for that!" the demigod protested, his eyes twinkling.

"Really? What reason could ever be good enough for that kind of insanity?" Iolaus demanded, shuddering as he again remembered the moment when the bull swerved away from the lance and gored his friend.

"Saving your soul," his best friend replied quietly, all trace of laughter gone from the eyes that gazed gratefully upon the partner Hercules had come too close to losing forever.

"Oh, well…yeah, I guess that's okay, so long as you had a reason," Iolaus allowed, bowing his head, humble before the immensity of love Hercules felt for him.

"I always have a reason…but not often one that's as important to me as this one was…as you are," the demigod clarified, once again looping his arm around Iolaus' shoulders. "I'm glad you're back."

"Thanks, Herc," his buddy replied softly. "For everything…for the bull…but almost more for not caring that everybody thought you were crazy whenever you talked to me in public! You are one really brave guy, you know that? I had my reasons, too, you know, for jumping in front of that bull. I know I broke my promise to you…but, well, when it comes to reasons, I had the best reason in the world."

"I know," Hercules sighed wondering again how he ever deserved what Iolaus so selflessly offered, all, everything that he was, and he gratefully squeezed his friend's shoulder, knowing he'd never have the words to really express how he felt. "Thanks."

Gazing out at the tranquil sea, Iolaus reflected, "But, all things considered, I think I'll stick to living for a while. I'm not cut out to be a ghost…being dead just isn't me, you know?"

Hercules grinned as he gave his friend a playful shove. Remembering the bathhouse in particular, he laughed, "I know. Believe me, I know! It's good to have you back…really back, I mean."

"Believe me, it's good to be back!" Iolaus replied, meaning it, especially knowing it couldn't last forever, but was only one more miraculous reprieve. Jabbing Herc with his elbow for the hell of it, he teased his friend into a light wrestling match that ended up tumbling them both into the water. Coming up to the surface, spluttering with laughter, he thought with exuberant joy at being alive, 'Even if it's only for a while…gods, it is so good to be alive!'

* * *

"Well, that's done then," Hades murmured with a certain satisfaction as he turned from his window on the world.

"Hmm," Zeus nodded, sipping his wine. For one, he was glad it over and done. His grandmother had not been pleased to lose a bull she'd had for eons, but she had a soft spot for her great-grandson and his irrepressible friend, so she'd agreed to allow the labour to be devised. Atropos, on the other hand…well, she'd been harder to placate, and he'd finally just told her that if Hercules succeeded in his labour, she'd have to make good on the deal, and that was that.

"How long before they figure out that new body is as eternal as the soul within it?" the God of the Underworld wondered.

"Quite a while," his brother responded. At the questioning look, Zeus continued, "They both have a great deal to learn yet. Iolaus has to learn that a time will come when he won't be able to save Hercules' life and he'll have to learn how to live with that. Hercules has to learn that he is indeed half-mortal…and come to terms with an existence without Iolaus by his side."

"After all this?" Hades protested, imagining the angst yet to come, shuddering at it. "Why?"

"Neither will be quite whole until they learn to stand on their own…but it will all only make them stronger together in the end," Zeus replied sagely. "Besides, Hercules will bargain anything to ensure an eternity neither of them quite believes in yet. So…Iolaus' body can be injured, sorely injured…but he will heal. And grow old. Until one day when I decide the time has come. One day…when I'll reveal to them both that Iolaus is also now a god, though a lesser one. A warrior god. One day…but not yet. If I told them now, they'd more likely throw the gift back in my face than thank me for it!"

Hades shook his head at his brother's machinations, but whatever he might have said was lost when Ares blazed in from Olympus. "Alright," he demanded, "how'd you do it?"

He'd been watching, closely, and hadn't seen any evidence of direct interference by any god, let alone these two. But he knew they had to have been responsible. Which meant Zeus had violated one of his own principal rules.

The brothers shrugged, both assuming looks of injured innocence. "I have no idea what you're talking about," Hades replied with a sardonic chill.

"Nor I," Zeus proclaimed with majestic affront at being accused of violating his own rules. The very idea!

"The runt is back and don't tell me you didn't make it happen," Ares stormed, his eyes flashing. He had every intention on trading on Zeus' weakness for his 'favourite' son. The God of War had his own 'intervention' all planned out.

Zeus shrugged, as he replied with a certain interest, "Really? The last I'd noticed, Eurystheus had sent Hercules on yet another labour…those labours were your doing as I recall."

Ares' eyes narrowed as he studied the two scheming gods, knowing he'd been had. Well, he'd figure it out, if it took a thousand years. There was time…all the time in the world.

Growling low in his throat with frustration, he vanished in a black cloud of smoke.

Hades smirked as he lifted his goblet to toast his brother's ingenuity…and Zeus lifted his own to toast Hades' success in implementing his scheme. But, just before he took another drink, the King of the Gods threw a stern look at his brother as he growled, "Oh…no more barring of Elysium or inadvertently creating immortals."

"Don't worry," Hades assured him. "I don't plan to ever do anything like that again."

Still, he thought as he sipped his libation, he wasn't displeased to have found he'd had an unexpected power. Or to have used it. If only once.

It made things a little more interesting to think that even as gods, they didn't know everything.

* * *

Atropos sulked, and sniffed as she regarded the tapestry, irritated with her sisters' benign acceptance of it all. "Gods…always wanting their own way," she muttered.

Lachesis calmly entwined the new length of golden thread, weaving it into place along the bronze one. "At least the shadows of evil are gone, and the threads are strong again. He helped rid us of Dahok…the gift of his life was little enough in return."

Stuffing her shears into her apron, Atropos shrugged, then nodded grudgingly. "Yes…I suppose you're right. But…mark my words, that one is nothing but trouble. He'll be messing up the pattern again before we know it. Even gods can be threatened, especially if they don't even know they're a god! And that Son of Zeus, going around thinking he's invincible…well, we'll see."

Clothos just bowed her head over her spindle, smiling cheerfully as she spun long lengths of golden thread, glad she no longer had to hide them away in her own pocket for when they'd be needed. It seemed everyone had finally seen what she'd known for a long time…this world needed these two heroes, needed them bound together, so they'd be strong, stronger than either could be alone…needed them now and always would.

Finis … Finally! !


End file.
